Don't Get Lost in Heaven
by Icecubey
Summary: When it comes to celebrities, nothing escapes the public eye, especially a love affair between the Ghost and the Prodigy. AC, LR, Implied TF. Hope you all enjoy :3 R&R Please!
1. Shh, It's A Secret!

HI EVERYBODY :D It's TIW here ('cause Soap's my partner ^^) and I am finally ready to post my silly excuse for an IGPX fic. Sorry if anyone is OOC, I'm making an effort here. It's not finished yet though. The way I'm looking at it, this fic will be about five chapters and I've already finished the first three. I'm warning you now, I use very evil cliffhangers. I'll update about once a week, so I have time to finish and not be inconsistent :D Okay, done talking now :D An as it said in the summary, this is a Cunningham/Amy fic. If that's not your cup of tea, then sadly you have to go elsewhere THERE IS ALSO LizxRiver in here, for anyone interested. Okay, now I'm really done.

Disclaimer: IGPX is quite obviously not mine, or this would be five episodes, not five chapters XD And as a little tidbit, the title, for all my fellow Gorillaz fans, IS inspired by the song of the same name :D OH and before I forget, much thanks and love to my lovely Michele for beta-reading for me. I love you Meeshell!

So without further adieu…

* * *

* * *

* * *

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

* * *

Chapter One: "Shh, It's a Secret!"

* * *

By: TIW

"So how does it feel to have won your fourth IGPX tournament!?"

"Well I'd definitely be lying if I said it didn't feel awesome." Takeshi rubbed his head, chuckling at the energetic Benjamin Bright.

Takeshi could still feel the adrenaline rush from the final race. This was their fourth year in the IG-1 and their fourth consecutive victory. Granted, Cunningham had nearly blasted him off the track with the Induraga Mano (it wasn't getting any easier to dodge after three years of perfecting said dodge technique), but he'd come out of it without a scratch. Had he needed to pull Amy out of the fray again though, he'd have been history.

"We're just that damn good! No matter what our opponent throws at us, we'll always be ready to throw it right back at 'em!" Liz was ecstatic, also pumped with the telltale euphoria of their big win, grinning from ear to ear.

"And what is your opinion Miss Stapleton? I'm sure you feel the same as the rest of Team Satomi?"

Amy blinked, pausing as she refocused her attention on Benjamin and smiled. "Well of course I'm happy! And Luca is too, aren't you Luca?" Amy looked down at the calico cat in her arms that meowed in response. If cats could smile, Luca was definitely doing so now.

Benjamin leaned forward in his overstuffed chair toward the three pilots of Team Satomi sitting on the ratty yellow couch of interview set. "So, now that we've got Team Satomi front and center, I think there are a few things that the public is dying to know!"

Takeshi directed a lopsided grin at Liz who could only sigh, scratching her head as they both anticipated the questions that were about to be asked.

"First, Takeshi, are you still seeing fellow pilot Fantine Valjean of Team Skylark?"

Takeshi grinned, placing one nervous hand on the back of his head. "Yes, I am."

"So you're saying your relationship doesn't cause any interference in your racing then?"

Takeshi shook his head, smiling his usual boyish smile. "No, not really. We're both pilots and we both want to win. We may be seeing each other outside the racetrack but that doesn't affect how we race or our desire to win."

"Ah, I see! Speaking of seeing pilots outside the racetrack, are the rumors true Liz? Have you hooked up with former team mate and current Sledge Mamma pilot River Marque?!"

Liz shrugged, trying to hide her blush with a boisterous grunt and a frown. "Not that it's any of your business but yes I have!"

"Ah so it seems that love has struck at Team Satomi with a vengeance! What about you Miss Stapleton, any love interests to speak of?"

Amy blushed, smiling shyly and shaking her head. "N-no, I'm not seeing anyone."

"You heard it first ladies and gentlemen, Amy Stapleton is single and looking! You'd be crazy not to go after this fine young lady I have here with me!" Benjamin laughed, completely missing the slightly alarmed look on Amy's face and the shifty looks that Takeshi and Liz sent her.

"You know you lie like a rug Amy."

The petite sixteen-year-old blushed, sighing and bowing her head, pouting. "I know I'm sorry! But what did you want me to say, we were on public television!"

"Oh I know that, I'm just teasing you." Takeshi grinned good-heartedly at the younger blonde pilot, lacing his fingers behind his head as the three pilots walked down the hall.

"Honestly, we're IGPX pilots, not some teeny-bopper idols! Why do they need to know that kind of stuff anyway?"

"Because we're famous and our watchers want to know everything about us that they can?" The first to be the voice of reason, Amy was glad to have their attention focused on something else besides her.

"Then they should come up to my face and ask me, not make me admit stuff on public television!"

Takeshi laughed at Liz's obstinate expression and the tight fold of her arms as her agitation showed. "Embarrassed Liz?"

"OF COURSE NOT. What're you trying to say Takeshi?!"

"Enough, enough you guys! It's not worth fighting over." Amy tried to placate weakly, looking between her two teammates.

"Well YOU agree with me Amy, right? I mean, you can't even talk about –"

"Liz!" Amy squeaked warningly, her blue eyes widening in worry. "Please, don't say anything! You never know who's listening and you know the trouble we'd have if—"

"Yeah yeah, okay, relax! My point is, you agree with me." Liz's statement was so final that it left no room for Amy to brook any argument, had she wanted to.

The three pilots walked the remaining length of the hallway in silence, the only sound being Luca's collar bell as he trotted along beside Amy. Upon opening the heavy steel door that lead to the back of the building, the pilots were bombarded with blinding flashes from cameras and shouting reporters, all dying to get statements from the victors. They offered smiles but no words as Mark met them halfway, ushering them along to the white van where Satomi, Himawari and Andrei waited to take them to the tournament closing ceremonies and gala.

Amy sighed in sheer relief as she ducked out of the stuffy ballroom-turned-reception hall, stepping out into the warm night air. After Benjamin's brilliant choice of words, nearly every male at the reception that wasn't older than thirty or taken had bumped into her, asked her to dance, or drawn her into an invigorating round of twenty questions concerning her personal life. It seemed that the topic of discussion concerning her was no longer her status as a child prodigy but her availability for dating!

Had she simply not been interested because she didn't want to date, gently rebuffing the countless suitors would have been easy. However, considering they were drawing their new-found vigor to date her from false information, it was ten times harder to act like the blushing naïve child she was presumed to be.

Amy hadn't gained much height in the three years since Team Satomi had made it to the IG-1, so she stood at roughly 5'2" and weighed less than a feather (thanks to those diligent morning runs!). Her hair had grown slightly, no longer falling to the middle of her back but her waist. After the interview, she'd changed into a glittering blue dress that fell in fluttering layers to her knees. The neckline dipped low, hinting at just enough cleavage so that her pursuers were certainly not discouraged. That aside, she was dressed tastefully and modestly.

The reception hall had a connecting patio with a fountain, closed in by rose trellises and climbing ivy. Amy slipped out between two of the tables, inspecting the decorative fountain. At its center was a sculpture of a mermaid. She tilted her head, smiling at the delicate craftsmanship of the marble, spouting streams of clear water tinted blue by the fountain basin's inner tiles.

"You look gorgeous."

Amy was almost startled by the voice behind her. She was halted from turning around to face it by long, masculine arms slipping around her body and a hot mouth brushing first across her ear and then her neck. The only thing that kept her from jumping was the fact that she knew the owner of that voice, those arms, and that mouth.

"Alex!"

Cunningham chuckled, pressing a short kiss to her cheek, squeezing her waist and then releasing her, letting her turn to face him. Amy's cheeks flushed pink gently but she smiled widely up at him, bouncing on her toes in barely-leashed joy.

"So I hear congratulations are in order? You beat us again."

Despite the kind tone of his voice, Amy could hear the slightly buried disappointment, or rather, aggravation. Cunningham had a tendency to take his losses more seriously than his victories because he didn't lose very often, so he'd naturally be a little sore about losing to them for a fourth year in a row.

"Just barely. I mean I'm glad that we won, but if Takeshi hadn't escaped your Induraga Mano…"

Cunningham chuckled, slipping past her to sit on the fountain edge. Amy followed immediately, perching beside him with only a few inches separating them.

"You're being modest. Jan said that you gave him a run for his money."

"Well then Jan was trying to please you!"

Now he laughed outright, leaning toward her slightly. "You think my teammates suck up to me? I should be insulted."

"That's not what I meant! You know they respect you though, I'm sure they try not to get on your bad side…" Amy could tell that her logic was crumbling beneath her so she sighed, crossing her arms. "Never mind!"

There was a brief note of silence before Cunningham's voice lowered and he spoke again. "So I see that Bright's delicate . . . suggestion has got every man in that room vying for your attention."

Amy couldn't help but smile at the displeasure in his voice, her cheeks turning pink once more. "Unfortunately. I couldn't correct him or he would have started asking more questions."

"I know."

"I don't understand it. I'm only sixteen, so why are all those men coming onto me? Can't they find women their own age to flirt with?"

"So you want me to go find a woman my own age?" Cunningham grinned, raising his brow teasingly as Amy immediately tried to deny what she'd said.

"N-no! You know that's not what I meant. But you have to agree with me. Would you really want to date a girl that's as young as I am?"

"Amy, you're asking the wrong person. I am dating you and I'm twenty-four." Cunningham couldn't help the twinge of pleasure at hearing it vocalized, since he certainly didn't get to very often. He could tell by her doubtful expression that she was preparing another argument, so he decided a switch of tactics was in order.

Lifting one hand to set on one satin-draped shoulder, he leaned down, quieting her response with his mouth. Amy squeaked, not prepared for the press of his lips against hers. However, deciding quickly that she preferred that to further argument, her shoulders relaxed and she leaned into him, returning his simple kiss. Taking it no further because of their open location, Cunningham leaned back, giving her a rare smile.

"Hey Amy, you out here?"

Amy immediately pouted at the sound of Takeshi's voice, not appreciating the interruption of her time with Cunningham. Reluctantly, she raised her head, calling back. "Yes, I'm over here Takeshi."

Takeshi circled the fountain. "Huh? Oh sorry, am I interrupting you guys?" Despite his desire to be polite, he couldn't resist a grin.

"Hey Takeshi. Congratulations on the win."

"Thanks Cunningham. Sorry 'bout the interruption, I'll leave you guys, but listen Amy, don't stay missing too long." At Amy's inquisitive look, he offered a lopsided smile. "Your fans are looking for you."

Amy sighed in exasperation, covering her head. "Benjamin Bright, you make my life miserable."

With a quick 'later guys', Takeshi left as quickly as he'd come, the sounds of the reception loudening briefly as he opened the doors, reentering. Cunningham sighed, leaning forward and then rising, offering a hand to her. "Come on, he's right. Let's not tempt fate out here."

"I guess you're right…" Amy pouted, taking his offered hand and rising with it. She looked up at him, reassured by the warm smile on his face.

"Listen, we'll meet tomorrow and spend time together then." Amy did not miss the fact that his words were more command then request.

"But where? If we're seen alone together it'd be suspicious." Always the tactician, Amy voiced the flaws of his suggestion despite her desire to agree whole-heartedly to said suggestion.

"Invest in a pair of sunglasses and a hoody. At least with those, we can go out unnoticed. You see Takeshi and that Fantine girl do it all the time, right?"

"True..." Amy paused, mulling over the plan before finally deciding it was the best one she'd been presented with since he'd propositioned her to date him (and forcefully, as she fondly remembered). "Okay, let's do that!"

"The boardwalk then, noon."

"Okay!" Amy smiled sweetly, her expression gentle as she lifted her head, meeting his kiss this time.

Liz flipped her hand towel over her shoulder, rubbing the back of her hand against her forehead as she left the training dojo. It had been just her in the dojo that morning because Takeshi had taken it upon himself to sleep as late as he could, so now she found herself walking into an empty rec room alone. From here she could hear the distant sounds of Mark in the garage, his voice faint as he conversed with the mechas (she'd decided a long time ago that that was a particular habit she was not going to question). Just as she sat on the couch and reached for the remote, she heard the door slam open and a squeak. Sighing, she turned in her seat.

"Amy, what are you doing?"

Amy skipped across the threshold, pushing the door closed and then rushing to the other side of the room, pulling on a sandal as she went. Liz raised a curious brow at the frenzied girl, trying again in a slower voice.

"Umm… Amy…? Where's the fire?"

The sixteen-year-old slid on the light-weight zipper-up hoody that she was carrying, smiling at Liz and answering breathlessly.

"Oh sorry Liz! I'm just going to be late if I don't hurry, is all!"

"You're going somewhere?"

Amy giggled, nodding emphatically as she pulled out small-framed sunglasses from the hoody's pocket. "Yes, I'm going out!"

"Obviously Amy. Where are you going? And since when did you wear sunglasses?"

"I can wear sunglasses whenever I want to!" Had she not been so excited, she might have sounded indignant, but as she was, she could only grin and try to contain her anticipation.

Liz eyed her suspiciously, making an obvious study of the girl where she stood. Amy was wearing a mid-length skirt fringed in girly lace and a spaghetti-strapped tank top. She'd already put on the white-zipper up and her sunglasses and had now unearthed a white denim fishing hat that she fixed atop her head carefully. In conclusion, Liz decided that Amy was entirely too nicely dressed to just be going out for fun. However, before she could make any statement, the door opened again with Takeshi entering this time, still sleep-fuddled and suffering an obvious case of unrelenting bed-head.

"Nice look ya got there Takeshi."

Takeshi made a face at Liz before noticing Amy's obvious departure preparations. "Going out Amy?"

"Yes!"

"You're not taking Luca with you?"

"Luca made it perfectly clear that he wanted to sleep all day today! He stayed at home."

"Where are you going?" Takeshi flopped down on the opposite end of the green couch from Liz, craning his neck to keep his eyes on Amy. However, before Amy could come up with another vague answer, Liz spoke up for her.

"She's going out to see Cunningham, I'll bet."

Amy sputtered, blushing. "Liz, shh! Don't tell Miss Satomi or Andrei, okay?"

"Yeah yeah we know the drill! Now get outta there, your boyfriend is waiting for you!"

Amy giggled, waving. "Okay! Bye guys, have a nice day!"

With that exuberant parting, Amy exited the rec room, hurrying down the front hallway of the team building and pushing the front door open, fixing her bag on her shoulder and taking off at a jog. She had on a pleasant smile as she navigated the sidewalk, nodding politely and smiling at the people she passed.

Glancing at her watch again, she stopped to catch her breath at the boardwalk entrance. It wasn't extremely crowded but there were a fair amount of people milling about, but then she didn't blame them, it was a beautiful day! Fixing her hat and sunglasses, she mounted the boardwalk, beginning to walk slowly, looking about. Cunningham hadn't specified where on the boardwalk to meet him, but they both had phones, so if she couldn't find him, she could always call him.

"Hey!"

Amy froze, hoping that that call wasn't directed at her. Could someone have recognized her already? After the stunt Benjamin Bright had pulled on their interview, she'd been weary in public, expecting every man she passed to call her out. Much to Amy's relief though, the speaker moved ahead of her to meet another person, allowing her to pass without notice. Resuming her search, she tightened her grip on her bag as she glanced around anxiously, looking for any sign of Cunningham.

It was then that someone caught her eye. He was leaning against the boardwalk's railing that overlooked the public tennis and basketball courts, probably watching whatever game was in progress below. Edging to the rail herself, she tried to steal a good look at the man. His hair was pulled back in a short ponytail that poofed out in unruliness. He wore sunglasses, cargo pants and a plane t-shirt, a sweatshirt with a hood tied around his waist.

Amy smiled immediately, approaching him slowly, ducking her head as she spoke.

"Alex?"

Cunningham lifted his head, glanced down to look at her and smiled. Turning to her, he leaned down and pressed a short kiss to her mouth. "Hey."

"Hey." Amy blushed, smiling as she looked up at him, quelling a giggle. "Decided to try a different hairstyle today?"

Cunningham crossed his arms, giving her a wry smirk. "It's called a disguise. I see you took my advice. You look cute."

Amy clapped, smiling. "Really? Good! I found an old pair of sunglasses that were lying around in my room by sheer luck. Actually, Luca found them."

"What happened to that famous organization of yours, eh?"

"Hey! I am organized! I just… don't usually wear sunglasses", she finished lamely, pouting.

"Okay, I'm sorry." Offering her a hand, he nodded toward the remaining stretch of boardwalk. "What do you want to do?"

She took his hand pressing close to his side as they began to walk. "Why don't we just walk for a little while? We can look for a place to eat lunch!"

Nodding, he laced their fingers together, setting off for the opposite end of the boardwalk to scope out a suitable restaurant for them.

She'd been watching the horizon for a while now, and Cunningham wondered if she'd forgotten where she was. He could honestly say that next to the races of the IGPX, the last five hours had been the most enjoyable length of time in what felt like forever.

They'd walked all the way to the end of the boardwalk before turning back to scope out the restaurant they'd decided looked the best. It was on the higher end of the price range, so luckily, it hadn't been packed with people and they were able to maintain their anonymity rather easily. After lunch, he'd convinced her to play a match of tennis with him (during which he'd discovered that as good of a midfielder as she was, Amy was hopeless at sports and wouldn't have known a racket from a bat if you'd asked her). Despite her obvious lack of affinity for sports, she'd diligently chased after each tennis ball, finally crumpling to the ground and declaring forfeit. Feeling the slightest bit sorry for her, he'd agreed to carry her back to the boardwalk (which she'd enjoyed immensely).

Though he normally wasn't one to express a multitude of emotions in any public setting other than military-esque determination, cockiness, or snobbish distaste (because face it, as many fans as he had, the other IGPX fans who sympathized with the other teams felt that he was the epitome of the rude jerk), he'd been hard-pressed to quell his laughs as Amy struggled to keep up with each tennis ball volleyed at her. Although she was fast, her aim was absolutely dreadful and usually ended up with a wasted rush across her side of the net. She'd been adorable in her steadfast determination to get the ball across the net, which she'd succeeded in only a few times.

Cunningham, surprisingly, had no tolerance for the puppy-dog eyes and, very pathetically, caved when Amy turned them on him. In this particular instance, it had been to visit the bookstore on the boardwalk (because for Amy to pass-up a bookstore would have been a personal offense to herself). Despite the need to fend off the people who recognized them, she'd been thrilled by the selection of books and come out of it with a book on the history of classical orchestra (A/N: Allusion to Youkai Ryuu's fic "Fading Smile" :D GO READ IT!). Ever the gentleman, Cunningham had bought it for her, both because he refused to let her pay for anything that day and because he was rather fond of her fantastic violin skills.

Finally, after more mischief, a brief scuffle with one of Amy's y-chromosome callers and an impromptu autograph signing for a group of pre-teen IGPX fans, they'd ended up at the observatory deck that gave a fantastic view of IGPX City, especially the racetrack. It was a different view from here (as they were both used to seeing the track _from_ the track) and oddly refreshing.

Amy had been quiet now for at least ten minutes and he wondered if she'd fallen asleep, but one covert glance at her confirmed that her eyes were open and she was awake. Her sky-hued eyes were squinting slightly and there was an absent smile on her face as she leaned against him, her small hands holding the one of his that was draped around her shoulders. When he squeezed his hand in both of hers, she blinked, looking up at him.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice was rough from their lack of speech and she blushed at how handsome he looked in the sunset's light, even behind sunglasses and with his fluffy ponytail.

"Hmm." She snuggled closer to him and her smile widened slightly when his arm closed tighter around her in response. "Today. I haven't had so much fun in a long time . . . even if I can't play tennis for my life."

Cunningham chuckled, nodding. "I was thinking the same thing . . . And you're not that bad."

"Oh don't flatter me, I know I'm terrible!"

He smiled gently, leaning his face down to nudge against hers, their noses rubbing together, his voice low. "And if I like flattering you?"

Amy smiled exuberantly, her cheeks flushing charmingly. "Than you're entirely more romantic than I give you credit for, Alexander Cunningham."

"Then you should give me more credit, Amy Stapleton." Mocking her teasingly, he caught the tip of her nose between his teeth, making her jerk back and yelp, sticking her tongue out at him.

Laughing, he tugged her back. "Put that tongue away before I put it to better use."

Amy giggled girlishly, covering her mouth to try to hide her embarrassed blush. Even though they'd been dating for a few months (five and three-quarters if she was counting right, which she was), she was still sixteen and prone to the naiveties her age provided. On top of that, Amy was on the introvert end of the social scale, so she was much less skilled in dealing with people in a casual setting, given her elevated status as child prodigy and her childhood handling as if she were a china doll (it certainly didn't help that she'd been showered with attention but starved for affection). Of course that was behind her, thanks to her new friends in the IGPX and the boost to her confidence given by the coordinated efforts of Team Satomi and everyone else associated with the IGPX.

Cunningham leaned back on the bench where they sat, stretching. "Let's do this more often."

"Okay." Amy smiled sweetly, snuggling against him once more, pillowing her head against his shoulder as they both examined the sixty mile track from this new point of view.

Cunningham turned his attention from the track back to Amy, his eyes darkening a little as he examined her face and most specifically, her mouth. He may have been a gentleman and not your typical hormonal male, but he was still a twenty-four-year-old man and not immune to the effects of pretty girls pressed against him. Even though Amy was only sixteen, he didn't see her as a child. He reasoned that it was because she was so mature for her age, thanks to her astonishing IQ and her unfortunate rush through child hood thanks to fame and familial neglect. Her naiveties aside, he considered her more adult than a couple of the people he knew, including her own team forward Takeshi and his own team defender Dew (because God only knew if that man was ever in a serious mood outside of Hamgra's office).

"Hey . . ." His voice was low and had an almost purring quality to it and Amy felt a shiver go down her spine as she felt the tug of his arm against her. Turning to look at him, her response was delayed by his continued speech. "Come 'ere . . ."

She felt her breath flutter as he leaned down again, catching her mouth deftly. He'd kissed her several times that day but they'd all been quick, fleeting brushes of the mouth. This was a real kiss; his tongue gently prodded her lips and she yielded immediately, her head tilting to accommodate him, her hands letting go of his to allow her arms to slide around his neck. In response she felt his hands slip down her slides slowly, caressingly, to grip her slim waist.

He allowed her a brief reprieve, freeing her mouth to simply nuzzle against it. Amy smiled gently, her hands pulling back from their place behind his head to slide his sunglasses up over his forehead to sit on his head, freeing a few wisps of his chocolate brown hair. A small sound of amusement surfaced from her throat as she tucked the strands behind his ear, turning her face up slightly to receive his mouth again.

They remained in their lip-lock for a few long moments. Only when he felt her small fingers tightening on his ponytail did he deem it all right to let her go. Ending the stream of kisses slowly, he nipped at her lower lip, pressing a final, simple kiss to her mouth, nudging his nose against hers as they both caught their breaths in silence.

This poignant hush was the only time that Amy ever felt nervous around Cunningham. Against her better rationale, instinct always dictated that she should tell him she loved him after such heated moments. It was the natural order of any romantic moment, laden with aesthetic novelties like moonbeams, flower petals and dramatic music, and she felt compelled to follow the tradition. However, in her right mind, she knew, a little regrettably, that neither of them was ready to trade that particular statement. At sixteen and twenty-four, already a potentially-precarious predicament, they had to pace themselves and choose their words carefully. Even though he'd made it clear he didn't care what other people would think of him, the public wasn't ready to know about them and, to Amy at least, 'I love you' was almost a sure fire way for the world to find out.

However, sensing her discomfort, Cunningham saved her the awkward fumblings and kissed her cheek, smiling easily. "All right. How about I take you out to dinner? I'm getting hungry again."

Amy smiled adoringly at him, nodding. "That sounds like a good plan to me!"

Stretching and then standing, he offered a hand to her, which she took delightedly, bouncing to her feet energetically. Cunningham couldn't help but grin as he led her from the observatory deck, their hands laced together tightly.

Barely able to contain his grin, the young man lowered his camera around his neck, barely leashing his excitement. How much would the press pay to have these pictures? Alex Cunningham of Team Velshtein and Amy Stapleton of Team Satomi, of all people! He could always do with a little extra cash, so what was there to lose?

Turning immediately away, he raced toward the end of the board walk where his bike was chained up. Mulling it over in his head quickly, he unchained his bike and mounted, pausing. He could bring it to the IGPX newscasters to give to Benjamin Bright, but he highly doubted that even Benjamin Bright would accept such illicit material, especially after just airing that Amy Stapleton was single the day before.

His mind made up, the young man rolled his bike across the gravel to gain momentum and then dashed the pedals, making a beeline for the local tabloids. They'd reward him handsomely for this.


	2. Entering the Layer

IGPX is back and so am I! I know, you can all get mad at me (assuming that you all is the seven people who reviewed XD) but I'm gonna use the excuse that life happened and since writing is not my sole purpose in life….time ran away XD But IGPX is back and summer is soon approaching, so I'm jumping back on the bandwagon. Half of the story is already done anyway, so. I'm going to update slow though so that I'll be done before I finish posting the previous chapters. With that said, on with the ficcy!

Disclaimer: IGPX is quite obviously not mine, or these would be five episodes, not five chapters XD And as a little tidbit, the title, for all my fellow Gorillaz fans, IS inspired by the song of the same name :D OH and before I forget, much thanks and love to my lovely Michele for beta-reading for me. I love you Meeshell!

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter 2: "Entering the Layer"

By: TIW

Amy felt her heart sink when she saw the team building looming close on the horizon. She and Cunningham had tried out a restaurant that Takeshi had mentioned once. It was high-class, very expensive and had she not been dressed nicely, or had they not happened to be famous, they probably wouldn't have gotten in.

"Alex . . ."

"Hm?" Cunningham glanced down at her, one brow cocked.

"I had a really good time today." Amy turned her face up to him, a genuine smile on her face, her eyes reflecting the street lights to glitter prettily.

He grinned rakishly, bringing up one hand to pat her head. "You're welcome."

"I'm not a cat!" She stuck her tongue out at him, flipping her hair over her shoulder as they turned up the walk to the darkened front of the Team Satomi building.

"What did I say about that tongue, little girl." The grin was evident in his voice as he assumed a predatory stance behind her, his hands raised slightly to grab for her.

"I'm not a little girl either! And I think you're bluffing, with all that bravado." There was a snide quality to her voice as she returned his teasing, twirling to face him with a flourish.

"Do you really?" He slid up before her, drawing himself to his full height to look down at her roguishly, his hands pocketed casually.

"I do." Amy tapped one of her sandaled feet to emphasize her statement, nodding curtly, well aware that this was a game and that it was probably going to end rather nicely.

Cunningham smirked, his telltale "I am going to win and there is nothing you can do about it… sucker" grin blooming on his face as his hands shot up to grab her shoulders, making her cry out in a shrill giggle.

"You should learn to take me seriously, little girl." His voice took on a husky quality as he leaned down, forcing her to lean back slightly with him. Cutting off her attempt to rebuff him, he caught her mouth, his hands on her shoulders tightening slightly.

Granted, he would have stood there for a few more moments, kissing her senseless to satisfy his lust for the night, had he not been distracted by the sound of something thudding against glass. His retreat from her mouth was slow to temper his suspicion, looking over her head at the front windows of the Satomi Heavy Industries Team building. There was nothing that he could see in the darkened hallway, so he chalked it up to hearing things.

Amy was still slightly dazed, leaning against him almost sluggishly. When he returned his attention to her, she heaved a sigh, shrugging. "I suppose I should be getting in now. I really did have a good time today . . . Promise we can do it again sometime?" Her eyes turned to his hopefully, bouncing on her feet slightly in anticipation.

Cunningham grinned at her cute behavior, nodding. "I promise." Glancing at the front door again, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Now get going before your people come after me."

Amy giggled, nodding. "Okay." Rising on her tiptoes, she raised her mouth to meet his as he leaned down for her. Bestowing upon him a simple good night kiss, she smiled, padding back and waving.

He waited until she'd opened the door and was safe inside, waving at him again from the glass. He winked at her, waving once before he turned, pocketing his hands, to head back to his own base. Although he'd be going back to his own apartment the next day, they were spending one more night at Hamgra's building, on the old man's orders.

He wondered idly if, when he did move back to his apartment, he'd be able to bring Amy back to it.

"LIZ!" Himawari yelped, barely grabbing the collar of Liz's shirt as the redhead made a run for the door.

"WHO DOES THAT GUY THINK HE IS, FEELING HER UP LIKE THAT!?"

"She doesn't look like she's complaining Liz!"

"SHE'S A YOUNG AND IMPRESSIONABLE GIRL!"

"LIZ, YOU'RE ACTING LIKE A MORON!"

"OI!" Liz turned to Himawari, scrunching her nose up at the medic. "What're you saying?"

Himawari giggled, crossing her arms. "You're acting like her overprotective brother!"

"I'm a GIRL!"

"Well you're not acting like it!"

"HEY YOU!" Liz shook her fist at Himawari, making the other girl cackle and skitter back, avoiding Liz's curled hand.

"See look! They're not kissing anymore!"

Liz grumbled, peeking out the window again to glance at them. Himawari was telling the truth, they'd separated.

"Much better. I'm gonna have to have a word with that boy."

Himawari couldn't help but snicker at the Defender. For all of her brashness, Liz was really quite sensitive and, when she hadn't been busy, was speculating on what their youngest teammate was doing and whether or not she was going to need to give Cunningham a black eye if he tried to pull anything. It was really quite endearing actually. She turned to glance back at the two people outside and gasped.

"Oh no, she's coming! Let's go!"

She and Liz gave manic shouts, turning and running back toward the rec room, not wanting to be caught in the front hall spying. She glanced at Liz, discovering that she still looked like she was planning to punch somebody. Oh well!

"Yamma, I'll be back in a while!"

The gravelly voice of his team leader filtered back from the other room. "Where ya goin'?"

"Out to grab a few things from the store."

"Get us some soda, we're out!"

"You got it!"

River Marque shoved the door of their mostly empty garage open, brushing his blonde hair from his face and shielding his eyes as he jogged out into the sunlight. The IGPX was over and they were about to start their off-season vacation, so the garage was being emptied and the Sledge Mamma base was slowly being stripped of their belongings to be moved back to their own homes. Most of the IGPX pilots preferred to stay situated in IGPX city during the off-season so that they were never completely out of their element, so those who didn't own homes there rented apartments specially set aside for the IG-1 pilots (unfortunately, the IG-2 and IG-3 teams were not so lucky).

He'd spoken with Takeshi about his plans for the next few months before fall and winter training began for the next year's IGPX. Takeshi, due to his duty of watching over his sister, already owned a home in the city and had extended the invitation to stay when he'd spoken to him about it.

Since both pilots were on good, if not extremely competitive, terms again, their friendship was easy, as if they'd been friends all their lives. The last of his things were set out in the rec room of Sledge Mamma's base and were waiting to be picked up by Takeshi when he came by later with his sister to complete the transition home.

Strolling down the sidewalk and responding to the occasional shouts of greeting or general fandom, he climbed the steps to the boardwalk shops, slipping his hands behind his head. Sledge Mamma's base was very close to the shopping and leisure districts of the city (which was really no coincidence considering Yamma was a party animal. No shock there.).

Ducking into the small pharmaceutical shop, he loped past the medicines to where they kept the food and the other oddball things that the store sold. Grabbing the case of soda that Timma had asked for, he leaned down to pick up a bag of chips. Straightening again, he skipped two aisles and ducked into the grooming aisle. He needed the necessities before going to Takeshi's. With shampoo, conditioner and some good old Axe in hand, he headed back to the front of the store. On a whim, he swiped a bottle of Excedrin as he passed the aspirins, preparing for the worst (should Takeshi's house happen to be a madhouse like he expected it might be). Plopping all his purchases onto the checkout counter unceremoniously, he backed away, waiting as the middle-aged cashier rang up the items, humming aloofly.

He turned to glance out the door, where it was bright and sunny, promising another day of pleasant weather. At the man's prompting, he turned back to face the counter again. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a meager fold of bills, pulling out a $20. Belatedly, he realized that he'd dropped his change. Setting the $20 on the counter for the man, he bent down to pick up his dropped coins. It was at that point that he noticed the tabloid on the rack beneath the counter. He nearly fell backwards at the picture on the front of it. The headline under the tabloid's name was bold and capitalized in blaring red letters: AMY STAPLETON: NOT SO SINGLE! Under the headline, if that wasn't enough, was a picture of Amy kissing – now River swore rudely, grabbing the tabloid and staring at it, his eyes huge – Amy was locked at the mouth with ALEX CUNNINGHAM! And it was on the front of a tabloid that everyone was inevitably going to read!

Bolting to his feet, he threw the tabloid forcefully onto the counter. "Add that!"

The cashier looked startled, but River had no time for it. "Now, hurry!"

Grousing under his breath, the man withdrew some of River's change, covering the cost of the tabloid. Glancing down at the front page, he spoke in a stuffy, kind voice.

"Kind of surprising, isn't it?"

But when he looked up, River had the bag of items slung over one shoulder and the tabloid gripped in a white-knuckled fist, racing out of the store.

River juggled the things in his hands until he got one free, reaching into his other pocket to pull out his cell-phone, scrolling through his contacts until he reached Liz's number.

Liz leaned over the counter, taking another rice cake from the plate. Taking a bite out of it, she looked over at Takeshi who was poking through the refrigerator, searching for something.

"What're you looking for?"

"Got it." Takeshi straightened up with a can of Sprite in his hand. "Did either of you want something?"

Liz looked over at Amy who was leaning against the counter with her chin in her hand, looking down at a book lying on the counter. The younger girl looked up, blinking. "Oh, no thanks Takeshi!"

"Yeah I'm fine too." Liz waved him off. As she went to take another bite of her rice cake, she felt her pocket vibrate, followed by her ring. It was River's ringtone. Leaving the cake in her mouth, she took out the phone, flipping it open and then reaching to pull the rice cake from her mouth.

"Hey." Liz grinned as she greeted River.

"Liz, I'm coming over."

Liz blinked, leaning forward a little, feeling Takeshi turn to look at her. "What, why for?"

"Have you seen today's tabloids?"

"No, why?" Liz glanced up at Takeshi, who mouthed a curious 'what is it?' Liz shrugged, looking back at her rice cake.

"It's bad", was River's cryptic reply.

Now Liz was getting concerned and she straightened on her stool, looking at Takeshi worriedly. "River, what's wrong?"

"Either Amy wasn't telling the truth, or Cunningham gets around really fast, but they're both on the front cover. It's . . . they're fucking making out, Liz."

"WHAT?" Liz shot up, swiveling around to stare at Amy, who panicked at the sudden movement.

"Liz, what's the matter!?"

Liz swore, throwing her rice cake down on the counter. "River, run."

"You got it babe."

Once the line went dead, Liz snapped her phone shut and turned to dash out of the kitchen.

"Liz, what's going on!?"

"Never mind!" She was about to dash, but made a quick detour, grabbing the remainder of her rice cake and taking it with her as she darted out of the kitchen, leaving a baffled Amy and Takeshi in her wake.

It was such a nice day today. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and Sir Hamgra hadn't bothered them all morning. Dew even thought they might get out of there without any trouble, so he was in a rather good mood. Whistling pleasantly, he carried his bags from his room at the Velshtein HQ, bringing them to the front hall so they'd be easy to get out later.

It was such a nice day today. So naturally, it wasn't going to stay that way.

"CUNNINGHAM!!!!!!!!"

Dew nearly had a heart attack as Sir Hamgra's voice thundered through halls, and he was sure wherever he was, Cunningham was cursing his existence for pissing the boss off on their last day "at the office."

Elsewhere, Cunningham groaned, turning to look at his door as he packed his remaining stuff. What could he have possibly done now when he hadn't even seen Sir Hamgra that day? Of course, Sir Hamgra had eyes all over the place so he really couldn't use that as an excuse.

Reserved, he paced casually to Hamgra's office, straightening himself out before entering. Stepping into the darkened room, he noted that the shades were drawn and he frowned. Stepping up to the desk curtly, he saluted.

"Sir!"

Sir Hamgra turned slowly in his chair, looking completely neutral for a moment. Neutrality shifted to quivering irritation and then became tempered again. Calmly, he unrolled the news print, which Cunningham realized was a tabloid, from the colorful pages. Why would Sir Hamgra be reading tabloids? The man could hardly bare to eat less than a five star meal every night.

Deceptively calm, he placed the tabloid on the desk, face up toward Cunningham, and leaned forward onto his elbows, lacing his fingers over the bridge of his nose and looking up at Cunningham with carefully-leashed anger.

Cunningham raised a brow at Sir Hamgra who did not so much as move or bat an eye. Slowly, Cunningham came forward to look at the magazine on the desk. The first thing that caught his eyes was the red print and he felt a knot form in his throat: Amy's name was in the headline. His eyes moved painfully slow down the page, almost afraid, feeling a sick twisting in his stomach as he realized that the picture was of them, and what was worse, they were kissing. Where the hell had these pictures come from and when had they been taken? Sick realization dawned and he balled one fist, punching the desk abruptly, swearing and squeezing his eyes shut, holding onto the rage as well as he could before Sir Hamgra. This picture had been taken yesterday, there was no doubt: his hair was up in the ponytail and Amy had the white hat on. They were sitting at the observation deck on the boardwalk.

"What the hell were you thinking Cunningham?"

The way Hamgra spoke, he sounded like he wasn't so much asking for an answer as he was trying to make Cunningham feel like an ignorant little boy with less intellect than a mule; at that moment, he was succeeding in the latter.

Cunningham could hardly find the voice to speak and so he didn't, trying to think over the streaming trail of images from the day before, when he'd been with Amy. Someone had seen them and recognized them and had a camera.

"CUNNINGHAM, answer me."

In a voice that would surely betray him had it risen above a murmur, Cunningham spoke between clenched teeth. "I don't have an answer, Sir."

"I expected as much."

Cunningham looked up sharply, almost feeling insulted. This was the first time that Hamgra had ever spoken to him about his personal life. Their leader was no Scrooge: Sir Hamgra was actually a charitable and concerned man, when you took him away from the frenzy of the race season and his hellish determination with securing first place. The Velshtein coach had never taken a harsh word with Cunningham outside of rigorous lecturing on racing or technique. So to speak, Cunningham didn't know what to make of the man.

"I can't be bothered with what's going through your head concerning that girl. Frankly, I don't care, nor does it matter at this point. I don't care how you feel about her and I do not wish for you to inform me." The older man paused, taking a deep breath. "You've just put yourself in serious jeopardy. Rumors are going to surge the mills faster than you'll be able to comprehend, and almost none of them will be true. I trust in your rigidness and your lack of uncertainty, but you've threatened your very career, Alex."

Now Cunningham was very thrown off. The occurrences in which Sir Hamgra used his first name were very few and far between. In fact, the only person he was truly used to hearing his first name from was Amy. "With all due respect to your wisdom Sir, I don't think that a few rumors about Amy or I is going to hurt my career. Rumors can't keep me off a racetrack, no matter what they come up with."

"Rumors won't keep you off a racetrack, true. You're lucky that the season ended yesterday or they might have recalled our entire placing in this tournament, as well as Team Satomi's, on concern of conspiracy."

"Both Takeshi and Liz Ricarro are seeing members of other teams, Sir."

"They are not seeing people from their arch rival team that proves a true threat of taking their first place, Cunningham."

Cunningham wasn't sure whether he could truly take Sir Hamgra's words without a grain of salt, because part of it was boastful, even if it was only a microscopic part. Sir Hamgra would always believe that they were the true first place winners, even if proven wrong several times. In a way, Cunningham was thankful for that because it always kept him, Dew, and Jan at their top performance.

"True, but you know as well as I do that neither Amy nor I ever did anything to fix the races. I want to win back first place as badly as you do Sir, I would never forfeit it just because of a woman."

Even as the words came out of his mouth, Cunningham felt a twinge in his chest. His words made him sound like he regarded Amy beneath the IGPX. Truthfully, he could not say what he cared for more, but he was disturbingly aware that if it was the IGPX, he wouldn't be in this position now. He could tell that Sir Hamgra was thinking along the same lines because the older man regarded him with a very severe look for a brief moment, before continuing.

"I'm not concerned about it; they can't change their verdict now. Your next season is what you need to be worrying about, Cunningham."

"I don't understand Sir."

Hamgra, for the first time in all the years that Cunningham had known him, sighed. Leaning back, he regarded the Forward for a moment.

"Cunningham, have you ever spoken with Stapleton's parents?"

Cunningham quelled his reflex to sneer at the thought, simply shaking his head. "No I have not."

"I thought not. You've broken the law."

"What are you talking about?"

"Cunningham, you're a smart man, think. Amy Stapleton is only 16 years old and you stand before me and tell me that you've never once spoken to her parents! You are a 24 year old man presuming to have a relationship with a 16 year old. Cunningham, that is against the law without consent from the girl's parents! By official terms, this is sexual misconduct. Off the record . . . pedophilia."

The quality of Hamgra's voice was no different than if he'd been talking about a race strategy: it was not grave, it was not concerned, and it was most certainly not upset. He simply spoke as if he were laying out facts about the morning's news.

Of course, an entirely different train of thoughts was now running its course through the Ghost's brain. He'd never ever considered himself to be a pedophile – neither had Amy, as far as he knew, and he didn't think that any of her people had suggested that to her.

"Sir . . . I have never done anything to her. And any casual or personal contact has always been well within her consent." The Forward spoke with a strained voice; this was not a topic he wanted to be discussing with his team captain. What he did or did not do with his girlfriend was entirely his own business.

"That makes no difference. Pray that authorities do not rise to this silver-platter opportunity to charge you with anything. I will do everything within my power to pull those pictures and this story from the print. The next two weeks are going to be a hell for you and your friend. Reporters are going to be after you night and day. I'm sure I don't have to tell you this but I'm beginning to lose faith in your judgment. Do not speak to anyone about this: no comments, no statements, no brawls out of anger because some low-class, licentious, scum reporter rubbed you the wrong way."

Cunningham took a deep breath, and it was painful. The knot in his throat felt like a ball of lead and his heart was thundering. "Yes . . . Sir."

Hamgra folded his hands, regarding Cunningham again. "This will be difficult, but I believe that you will weather this as you've weathered everything else: successfully and proudly. You are above those people, and do not let yourself forget it." So perhaps some of the usual, proud Sir Hamgra was still there after all. "I suggest you prepare your things quickly now and get your move started. They won't wait long to track you down."

Cunningham fought the urge to slump his shoulders. He truly wanted to sit down and just do nothing for fear of doing the wrong thing and making it worse than it already was – not a familiar feeling for the Ghost. He nodded stiffly, saluting once more.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Hamgra nodded and when Cunningham turned away, he took another deep breath. "Cunningham."

The Velshtein Forward stopped, waiting.

"Do not see her."

Hamgra could easily see the instant tensing of all the muscle's in the Ghost's body.

"This is going to be worse for her than it is for you. I have had many years to observe Amy Stapleton. The spotlight was on her before she ever entered the IGPX. She will not handle this well and I suspect that she will be leaning very heavily on those around her. You cannot make yourself available to her. As desperately as you may want to, anymore revealed exposure will only hurt the both of you and fodder this situation. For both of your sakes, stay away from her for now. Call her everyday if you must, but do not see her. It'll only end badly."

Against every gut instinct, every desire in his heart, every lust in his body, he knew that Hamgra was right. Amy was going to receive the worst of this and Hamgra was right when he said that she would not take the prying well. He would have to rely heavily on Team Satomi to watch Amy for him when he could not be there.

"Sir . . ."

"Yes?"

"How long?"

Hamgra turned to look at the blinded windows, calculating. "At least two weeks. I wouldn't even be seen on the same street as her for at least another three weeks. After that, tread carefully. You'll have to see how well we do covering this all up. I'm going to speak to people and try to nip this upstart in the bud. I'll have my hand in persuading the authorities against any . . . rash course of action." This amused Cunningham simply because it was Sir Hamgra's round-about way of saying that he had connections and was going to exploit them until he was satisfied, and Hamgra was a difficult person to satisfy.

"Thank you Sir."

"Do not misread my actions, Cunningham. I do this out of no love for your relationship with Amy Stapleton. Take it wherever you must, but I will see you in the IGPX next year and you'd better make sure you take all the necessary precautions to make sure you're there, too . . . with or without Stapleton."

Cunningham felt all the tension come rushing back and he bit back a curse. When he found the person who'd taken those photos and started this entire mess, they were going to wish they'd never set foot in IGPX City.

Liz paced by the front door anxiously, glancing up out of the glass every few seconds. Finally, she couldn't handle the tension and actually went outside, tapping her foot as she peered down the sidewalk, shading her eyes and searching for any sign of her boyfriend on the horizon. If River was telling the truth then they had a very large problem on their hands and she highly doubted that River would pull a practical joke like this.

"Liz, what's going on?"

Liz sighed, turning around to face Takeshi. He was concerned; she could tell by the furrow in his brow and his tone of voice.

"Wait 'til River gets here. I don't have the whole story. Is Amy still inside?"

Takeshi turned and looked behind him, then turned back to face her. "I think she was on her way, but Luca was calling for her so she said she'd come when she was done."

"This is just wonderful." Liz said sourly, turning back to look for River, letting out a disgruntled huff.

"Liz, what the hell is going on? You're seriously starting to worry me now." Takeshi now sounded a little agitated. As devil-may-care as he was prone to being, if it had to do with one of them, he was generally all concern.

"River called me to tell me that he saw—"

"Liz!"

Liz jumped, turning to see River running toward them from down the block. She jogged to the end of the walk and waited anxiously for River. Takeshi followed her quickly, standing slightly behind Liz as the blonde approached them who paused to catch his breath when he'd reached them

"Okay River, what's this all about?"

River frowned, sticking his hand out with the tabloid in it, face up so that they could both read it. It looked as if it took a moment for the shock to even register in both Liz and Takeshi's faces. Takeshi looked between River and the tabloid, as if somehow River was responsible for the newsprint.

River drew his hand back when Liz snatched the paper from his hands, crossing his arms and speaking, his face dark.

"I saw it when I went out to get stuff to stay at your place, Takeshi. I didn't even think it was her at first . . . I mean . . . since when have Amy and Cunningham been going out?"

Since Liz was obviously too furious to answer, Takeshi spoke up. "Nearly six months now . . ."

"They were dating during the IGPX?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to MURDER HIM!" Liz roared furiously, making both River and Takeshi jump away from her. It was always stupid to get too close to the feisty Puerto Rican when she was pissed off.

"Liz, Takeshi!"

Half-expecting it to be Amy, Liz tensed and turned her head, but was surprised to see not Amy, but Himawari heading toward them. The other girl looked worried as she joined them, panting.

"Himawari?"

"Liz, it's horrible! Miss Satomi and I were just going to deposit the prize money in the bank account when we saw this tabloid! It—!"

"Let me guess." Liz raised the tabloid in her hand and Himawari gasped, covering her mouth.

"You know then! This is horrible! Miss Satomi had no idea what to do so she called Andrei, though I don't think he had any useful advice."

"Speaking of which."

It was River who'd spoken, turned away from them to look at a clearly flustered Mitsuko Satomi and grave Andrei. Satomi looked between the four of them, only slightly surprised to see River there.

"You know, I take it?"

"We know." Liz was trying to keep her anger in check and she'd nearly crumpled the tabloid in her hand.

"Does Amy know?"

"No. River saw the tabloid first and called me. I came out here to wait for him and Takeshi came with. She's inside."

"Everyone, head inside." The gruff voice of the Team Satomi coach broke the tense atmosphere, although no one's anxiety was lessened. "It's not wise to be standing right outside the building now. No doubt that the reporters are going to start harassing us soon."

"I'll beat the crap out of anyone who tries to stick their nose where it doesn't belong!" Liz threatened, sounding truly upset.

"Come on." Andrei led the procession back into the building and as the last one in, Satomi locked the front door. She had a feeling that if things kept going as they were, it was only going to get messier and she doubted any devoted reporter would take the liberty of being polite.

Just as they filed into the rec room, Amy entered and was thoroughly puzzled to see everyone standing around looking so anxious and tense. It wasn't just anxiety either; Satomi looked rather upset, Liz looked furious and Himawari looked incredibly nervous, stealing quick and unintentionally-overt glances at her. Finally, made nervous by the tense silence, Amy spoke.

"Why is everyone just standing there . . .? What's going on?"

Satomi ran a hand through her hair, stepping forward. "Amy . . . Sit down. We have to talk."

Amy nervously looked between Satomi and the group behind her, swallowing. "What's going on?"

"Just sit down Amy."

Amy couldn't refuse, so she tensely took a seat on the wrap-around couch. Satomi stood before her and heaved a great sigh. "Liz, give it to me."

Liz handed the newsprint to Satomi and grumbled bitterly. River put an arm around her shoulder, offering what silent comfort he could.

Satomi swallowed hard again, and with nothing to say, simply held out the tabloid for Amy to take. The small girl looked confused as she took the offered leaflet, looking down at it. Her confusion morphed slowly to utter disbelief and shock. She felt her fingers go nerveless as she looked from the headline to the picture on the front of it and she felt a knot form in her throat.

". . . What is this?" Amy looked up, scared, as if Satomi had a solution to this suddenly enormous problem.

"Today's latest gossip." Satomi let the poignant moment build as Amy looked back down at the thing in her lap. "Amy, how could you keep this from us? Velshtein is our number one rival."

Amy felt her hands start to shake and she lifted them to her mouth, covering it. She felt her eyes glaze over with tears of upset and she wiped at them hastily. She looked up at Satomi helplessly, completely horrified.

Satomi immediately felt horrible for what she'd said at the sight of Amy's tears. Obviously, this alone was too much for the girl to handle; she couldn't expect their most delicate team member to take both this and their questions levelly.

The team owner had no time to reflect on this as she felt the phone in her pocket ring. She frowned at the bad timing of the caller, taking the phone to see who could be calling and if it was worth the interruption. However, only a glance at the lit LCD screen was required to make Satomi immediately press the 'call accept' button and bring the phone to her ear.

"Sir Hamgra. We need to conference immediately."

A/N: Oooh drama :D Hope you liked it. Please review and share your thoughts and critiques!


	3. Wrong Side of Celebrity

So I haven't watched tonight's episode YET but I've taped it. I for one was very distraught about the break up (if you're a Liz/Takeshi plan, don't lynch me n_n I'm a canonite.) but that's neither here nor there.

Uhh, I know there was ONE question from a reviewer about the ages and I made a mental note to answer that question or uh, statement? Anyway, I know I never said this in the actual story because I had posted it in the forum when I was reading up on my info for the fic before I started it! I know that making Amy 16 means that she was 12 when they entered the IGPX, but I did this because official stats say that she's 13 and never accounts for the birthday episode. I chose to go with the year younger because it would make it more dramatic. I know that according to that, my math is right because I double checked myself and had Mishy check it also. It goes like this:

First IGPX – Amy:13 Alex:21

Second IGPX – Amy:14 Alex:22

Third IGPX – Amy: 15 Alex: 23

Fourth IGPX – Amy: 16 Alex: 24

And there you have the math behind the madness. Hope everyone enjoys chapter three :D

Disclaimer: IGPX is quite obviously not mine, or these would be five episodes, not five chapters XD And as a little tidbit, the title, for all my fellow Gorillaz fans, IS inspired by the song of the same name :D OH and before I forget, much thanks and love to my lovely Michele for beta-reading for me. I love you Meeshell!

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter 3: "Wrong Side of Celebrity"

By: TIW

"Sir Hamgra, Sir Hamgra, a word please!"

Sir Hamgra walked rigidly through the crowding of reporters, trusting the tall and beefy bouncers to keep the rabble at bay. What he was really interested in was the man behind him, who the reporters attacked next when Hamgra clearly refused to speak, even to say 'no comment'.

He'd already discussed with Cunningham that when they went to speak with the press, they'd be met with scavenging reporters and nosy newscasters. Cunningham had assured him (through clenched teeth) that he would do nothing rash, like attacking one of said reporters, for instance.

He could tell without even looking that the Ghost was absolutely livid and he felt the briefest moment of concern, before he cast off his foolish doubt; this was Alexander Cunningham, he would not cave easily. Silently relieved to see the door of the building close, Sir Hamgra added a slight burst of speed to his step, catching the door and making sure that Cunningham followed.

Cunningham was inconsolable. Dew and Jan had been left behind so that they wouldn't expose the other two Velshtein pilots to unnecessary attention (as much as they may have enjoyed it). It had taken the reigning of every muscle in the Forward's body to keep him from jumping on one of the rude journalists and beating him to a bloody pulp.

He'd called Amy before they'd left to see how she was holding up after three days of exposure. She'd broken down into tears in the middle of the call and for one of the first times in his life, Cunningham hadn't known what to do. He'd tried to console her as best he could, reconciling that he'd try to figure out some way that he could see her without being noticed (against every piece of advice that Hamgra had given him).

At this point, Cunningham could honestly say that he did not care what people thought of him. They could call him a cradle-robber and immoral man all they wanted but he could not have cared less. The only reason he'd yet to see Amy was because Hamgra HAD been correct in saying that, if caught, the publicity would only get worse, and he didn't want that for Amy.

Sir Hamgra had also come up with another horrible scenario. Should the harassment get too harsh, Amy's parents might step in long enough to sue him for bringing all this unwarranted and unwelcome attention to their precious daughter, and then he'd really have a problem on his hands because it was an entirely different matter to mess with a restraining order.

He let out a harsh and stuttering breath when they'd entered the building and escaped the shouts of the reporters and journalists. Cunningham desperately wanted to punch something, but it would be inappropriate and below him to suddenly let loose on the taupe walls of the press building.

He stopped when Hamgra was shown into the conference room where a few men in business suits sat, sipping cups of coffee. Immediately he hated them and he fixed them all with a hard gray glare as he took a seat at the table across from them. Leaning back, Cunningham crossed his arms and rested his chin against his collar, keeping his mouth firmly shut so that Sir Hamgra could speak without interruption.

"It's an honor to meet the famous Sir Hamgra and Alex Cunningham in person, I must say."

This was the hackneyed excuse for an opening discussion from who seemed to be the leader of the group of press executives. Cunningham added him to the top of his mental hate list, right below the still-unnamed photographer.

"Charmed, I'm sure, but pleasantries are not why my Forward and I have come here today." Sir Hamgra's voice was stern and Cunningham fought the urge to smirk. "I'm not going to be delicate about this seeing as you don't seem to be either. The story you ran in your tabloid two days ago has been causing trouble for my Forward and the young lady you so rudely slandered in your report."

"Sir Hamgra, that story was not run for any kind of disparaging purpose." The person who spoke up now, Cunningham observed hostilely, was probably the shadiest man he'd ever seen, with a curled mustache not unlike Benjamin Bright's and narrow eyes that made him think distastefully of Sledge Mamma's Yamma. "After the post-race broadcast from Team Satomi, the material that our source came to us with was sure to be a seller. We did not anticipate this kind of reaction from anyone."

Sir Hamgra gave a sharp glance to Cunningham who was visibly tensing and gritting his teeth behind closed lips. Wary, the Velshtein coach returned his gaze to the four men who sat on the other side of the table. He spoke now to the first man who'd spoken, seeming to ignore the shady character.

"Mr. Giancarlo, I'm well aware of what you had to gain from printing that story, but this isn't some harmless rumor you've started. If the girl's parents step forward to sue my racer, I will not let this matter rest." Sir Hamgra laced his fingers, looking narrowly over the tops of them at the robust Giancarlo. "I come to you with terms for a compromise."

Cunningham was thankful now, more than ever, that Sir Hamgra was who he was. The man had been in the business of IGPX for years, and in IGPX City, that was almost more respected than the usual law-enforcement and government professions. In fact, Sir Hamgra probably was one of the most respected men in the entire city, and that gave him connections with high up places that could put this publisher out of business without the bat of an eye. It was for that reason, he suspected, that the publisher's foreman Giancarlo visibly faltered the slightest bit before leaning forward himself.

"And what terms would those be?"

"Take this story out of print. Whatever photographs you were given will be handed over to my possession directly and a formal announcement will be made apologizing for this most uncivilized display of reckless printing. If you do that, I will remove myself from your presences permanently."

Cunningham looked up, his face hard. "One more thing."

All the men, including sir Hamgra, turned to look at him now with curiosity, or in Giancarlo's case, nervousness. It seemed that the pudgy, well-to-do man was even more intimidated by the strong, young Forward than of the intense man beside him. With their attention, Cunningham ground out in a curt and clearly angry voice, though he was successful in restraining his temper.

"I want the name of the person who took those pictures and gave them to you."

"Now Mr. Cunningham, under law we cannot reveal his name! We signed a contract."

"Him, huh?" Cunningham almost growled at Giancarlo, who sat up straighter.

"Mr. Giancarlo, I assure you that if you do not meet our requests, the law will not favor you, no matter how close to it you try to cling." Sir Hamgra spoke again, redirecting the hearty Italian's attention.

Grasping for straws now, Giancarlo sat forward, now regaining a bit of his nerve indignantly. "What do you try to gain from threatening us? I'm very well aware of your clout in government office Sir Hamgra, but we are not the only press running this story now. By the end of the week, all of the major tabloids will have this story in, pictures or not! We are not the only people to persecute!"

"Don't try to shift blame, Mr. Giancarlo. You started this whole affair, and I will see you pay for it, regardless of what your competition does. Here and now, I want the pictures or I'll make a call to Madison Square."

With that poignant threat, Giancarlo looked sideways. "Go get the pictures." The man was clearly displeased, but he was not so foolish as to challenge Sir Hamgra's threat. If he knew the man from any TV coverage or press that he himself had run, the Velshtein coach would not bluff on such a serious matter and he did not want to tempt fate.

"You cannot sway me Hamgra. I'll give you the pictures and I'll even pull the story out of print and burn the manuscripts but I will not test the law by giving up the photographer. Furthermore, I refuse to make a formal apology for my line of business. Gossip is my line of work, if I start apologizing for it now, it'll be a travesty to my whole business."

"There won't be a business if you keep this up!" Cunningham muted what would have been a scream, ignoring the warning look that his coach sent him.

"Cunningham."

The one word admonishment from his coach was all he was willing to suffer, so the Forward shut his mouth, trying with all his will to keep himself from diving across the table and strangling the fat Italian man.

The man who'd been sent for the pictures now returned with a manila envelope, handing it to Giancarlo who begrudgingly slid it across the table.

"Here are the pictures, and I'll draw up a declaration ensuring the destruction of all story manuscripts and prints in our possession by this evening, but nothing more. If that is all, I'd very much appreciate your departure."

Sir Hamgra stood, looking down at the man severely. "If that is what you want, who am I to stop you? I will be seeing you again, Mr. Giancarlo. Cunningham."

Cunningham stood stiffly, fixing the men again with a hard look and he was pleased to see that this time, they didn't look so confident. Now that he was standing, he wasn't sure if he could resist the urge to throttle the men, so he made it to the door before Hamgra did, facing it sternly and keeping his back squarely to the men to avoid temptation.

As Sir Hamgra rounded the table, he watched the press executives with an almost haughty air. When he reached the door and they did not rise to meet him, his eyes narrowed the slightest and his voice came, civilized and laced with threatening promise. "Good bye gentlemen and good luck."

"Are you sure that you want to head back on your own?"

Amy slid her hat low on her head, her chin low against her collar. Liz had convinced her to go out to the park with her to meet River, for the sole reason of seeing daylight after being cooped up in her big, spacious house for three days.

Liz had almost been ready to throw in the towel concerning Amy's depression when Satomi had called her to inform her that Hamgra had gotten the story out of the press, at least for now, and that she should tell Amy. As that had been the best news they'd received since the announcement of their fourth consecutive victory, Liz had been more than happy to deliver the message. Now, Liz had finally forced the girl to don her hat and sunglasses and come outside, promising that she'd give anyone who bothered the smaller girl a black eye.

"I'm sure. Thank you for letting me come with you Liz. You too River."

The blonde Sledge Mamma pilot, reclined on the bench, winked at her, drawing a smile from the tiny Midfielder.

"Don't mention it kiddo, it's been fun. You don't have to leave ya know."

"No, I'd rather go home now. I know you guys would like to spend some time together…"

Liz frowned, crossing her arms. "Aww Amy, come on. You don't have to leave just 'cause of that."

"No Liz, please. I'll see you two later." Amy gave a small wave, offering a tiny smile before she slid her sunglasses back on and turned her back on Liz and River, walking away on light feet, determined to leave them for some alone time. She knew that that was what she would have wanted had it been her and Alex.

The thought of her boyfriend made her shudder and her hands fisted at her sides. He'd called her yesterday and told her about the press conference before Liz had, but at least when Liz had informed her, it had included tell of Sir Hamgra's success.

Now Alex had the pictures, or at least she hoped he did (because she'd prefer if Sir Hamgra didn't see them) and the story was out of the tabloid, though other stories would probably start sprouting in all the other trash magazines. Again, she tried to think of where things went wrong, when the news of her and Alex together had become so much more hyped than Takeshi and Fantine, or Liz and River. What was the difference? So what if they were on arch rival teams, why did that have to matter, when she wasn't even Forward for Satomi like Alex was for Velshtein.

No, the only reason this was such a big deal was because of the damn post-race broadcast. Had Benjamin Bright never asked her about her love life, none of this would be happening and no one would have to know that she and Alex were seeing each other. It wasn't even the fact that they were on rival teams that made their relationship such a public scandal – no, it was the age difference, the implication, the taboo. Although, even that failed to make her understand the harsh reaction to all this.

Amy hadn't been met with public scorn outright, but the tabloid had stated it clearly – they were making her look like an easy girl, like a cheap floozy who would pick someone up at the first sign of interest, which was ridiculous. Altogether, this entire predicament made absolutely no sense and was only making her miserable.

"Amy Stapleton, right?"

Amy stopped in her tracks. Picking up her head, the Satomi Midfielder turned to see a small group of girls, five to be exact, standing behind her in a tightly knit throng, all looking at her. Amy swallowed awkwardly, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Y-yes. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, get lost."

Taken aback, Amy stuttered, her hands coming up to fist at her chest. "What? What are you talking about?"

"You heard me!" Only one girl was speaking, but the four behind her were all glaring and nodding in agreement. "Get out of IGPX City, we don't need you here! You have some nerve, making Alex look bad!"

…Fan girls!? Of all the bad luck! Amy swallowed again, nervous and hesitating. "I'm going now, just please leave me alone." She was very guarded, trying not to show any sign of hesitancy, keeping up her resolve. She'd built up her resolution since her first years in the IG-2 and was no longer the gawky, unassuming girl that she had once been.

"I don't think so!"

"Hu—!" Amy shrieked, trying to pull away from the girl who'd been yelling who now had a hold of her hair.

"COME ON!"

Amy gasped, aware that she now had five girls rushing her. She wasn't so unarmed that she would fail to defend herself, so she grabbed the wrist of the girl who held her hair and wrenched it off, back-pedaling from the girls, gasping when the girl fell forward. Normally, she would have tried to apologize profusely. Now… not so much.

"Oh that's it!"

Unfortunately, that didn't deter the girls much as they came right after her again, and Amy had no choice but to turn and run, her chest heaving in fear now. Maybe they were only girls, and not much older than her, but there were five of them and one of her, and she wasn't so confident that she could handle those odds, even if she was an IGPX pilot.

Of course, when one wore sandals, running was nearly impossible. She stumbled once, and that was all her pursuers needed, offering the perfect window to jump on her. The moment she hit the ground, she closed her eyes and started screaming. Curling into the fetal position, she tried to shield herself from the kicks and jabs at her. She felt absolutely pathetic, listening to these barbaric girls jeer at her and hit her with fierce blows to her side, which were nothing compared to the aftershocks of a hit in her mecha.

What her mind was really on was the pain in her ankle, and how the moment one of the girls touched it, pain knifed through her leg and she screeched, much more loudly this time. How was it that there was nobody around to help her, on the street no less!

"That'll teach you to go near Alex!"

At the mention of the Velshtein Forward, Amy was consumed with the sudden urge for him to be there, for him to stop these lunatics. Sure, she'd been well versed in fan club ideology but she had no clue that they were really so fanatical! Muttering, with tears already streaming down her face from the pain in her ankle and the dull ache in her side, desensitized by the continuous blows that she was helpless to stop (because battle simulations for the IGPX did not prepare a person for being jumped), she whispered.

"Alex…Alex…Alex"

"AMY!!!!"

Amy saw the scatter before she felt it, the girls tripping over her curled body to run. It wasn't Alex they were running from though; no that would have been entirely too coincidental. That was none other than Liz's voice and she lifted her head weakly, her face almost completely spared, luckily.

"Liz! Help!"

"GET BACK HERE YOU ASSHOLES!" Liz ran past her, but River stopped, kneeling down and trying to turn her over.

"God kid, are you okay? What the hell happened!?"

"What does it look like?" Amy could think of nothing else to say, even if it was a little rude. She wiped her cheeks, trying to abate her tears as she looked down at her lame ankle. "I think my ankle is sprained."

"Amy, God! Are you all right?!" Liz returned quickly, kneeling down on her other side, leaning over her and looking extremely concerned.

"No, my ankle!" Amy looked up at Liz, her eyes glazed over with tears and pain.

"Who were those bitches, I'm gonna kill them!"

"None other than the Alex Cunningham fan club." Amy's voice was bitter and broken as she wiped at her eyes again, fighting the urge to cry.

Liz bit back an angry explosion, finally driving her fist into the open palm of her other hand, holding on to her increasing rage. "It FIGURES that this would be his fault!"

Amy looked up, startled, shaking her head though she stopped immediately, wincing at the dizziness that overtook her. "No, this isn't his fault!"

"Amy, all of this is his fault! If he hadn't gotten so damn comfortable and taken you out when he KNEW that—"

"Liz." River had reached across Amy's prone form to take Liz's wrist, looking at her from under his blonde forelock, shaking his head.

"…Fine. Come on, we have to take you to the hospital."

"I'll carry her. Up we go kiddo." River slid his arms beneath Amy's shoulders and knees, lifting her as slowly and as gently as he could manage, though she still whimpered as her ankle was shifted.

"You'd better call Satomi, Liz." River regarded Liz severely, and the Puerto Rican girl nodded, taking out her phone. She dialed and brought it to her ear, turning away from River and Amy. At the sound of the click on the other end, she spoke immediately, not allowing Miss Satomi the time to speak.

"Miss Satomi, meet us at the hospital."

"Why is all of this happening to her?"

Miss Satomi held her forehead as she sat primly in one of the hospital's waiting room chairs. Takeshi sat two seats away, arms crosses and eyes staring off absently, his face sullen. Himawari had finally stopped crying from when she'd originally heard that Amy was in the hospital for being jumped, and now sat beside Liz, who was doing her best to contain herself. River had gone to get them all some soda from the vending machines, suggesting that maybe if they all had a drink they might feel better.

"It's just not fair! Why does this have to happen to poor Amy, she didn't do anything!" Himawari's voice was wobbling again, as if she were going to start crying, although she held fast to her resolve.

"I keep telling you guys, it's 'cause of that jackass Cunningham! This is all his fault! You don't see him getting jumped in the streets by rabid fans now do you?!"

"Cunningham's not going to be happy when he hears about this Liz. It's a good thing that we didn't run into any press on the way here or we would have had hell on our hands." Takeshi surfaced from his daze, looking at Liz.

"I spoke with Benjamin earlier and he said that he never had any intention of speaking about the incident on his broadcast. He felt horrible for causing all this trouble in the first place." Miss Satomi was clearly exhausted and Takeshi hoped that River came back with the soda soon.

"Well at least something isn't going wrong…" Himawari sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

River finally turned the corner back into the waiting room, holding a small stack of cups and two bottles of soda. He put the soda and cups down on one of the dividing tables between the chairs, heaving a sigh as he sat down next to Liz.

"Nothing yet…?"

Liz shook her head, closing her eyes but unable to lose the fierce frown on her face. The team sat in silence, and finally Takeshi poured some soda, handing the cup to Miss Satomi, almost worried that she'd fall asleep or pass out from the look on her face. Slowly, everyone poured themselves soda and the five former and current Satomi team members waited in silence.

It was another forty five minutes before a man in a white coat came into the waiting room.

"Mitsuko Satomi?"

Miss Satomi looked up, rousing herself from her half-doze and shaking her head, standing. "That's me. How is she?"

The elderly man smiled, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Well, Amy seems to have gotten her ankle sprained, but it's nothing a few days off it won't fix. There was bruising on her sides but that's also something that will go away with time. Altogether, she got out of it without serious injury."

Himawari heaved a great sigh. "Thank goodness."

"Amy will have to use crutches for two or three days until her ankle has healed enough for her to walk on. We're wrapping it with an Ace bandage and after that, it'll just need to be rewrapped after every bath. Are you her guardian Ms. Satomi?"

"Oh, no, I'm her coach, from Team Satomi? Liz was with her when she hurt herself, so she called me and told me to meet them here. I told the nurse at the ER desk and she said she'd be contacting Amy's parents."

"All right then. As her IGPX coach, that makes you a signed legal guardian, if I remember right?"

"That's right."

"Well then, please follow me. You can wait with her while she gets her ankle wrapped."

Miss Satomi turned to look at Liz, River, Takeshi and Himawari, smiling apologetically. "Guys, I'm going to go stay with Amy. Wait here?"

Takeshi nodded, smiling. "We'll wait here for you and Amy."

Miss Satomi left the pilots and medic standing in the waiting room, feeling only slightly relieved after the doctor's words. Abruptly, Liz turned away from them, stalking toward the exit of the emergency rule.

"Liz? Where are you going!?" Himawari yelped, turning to face the retreating Defender.

"If anyone's gonna tell that asshole what's happened, it's gonna be me."

Takeshi, River and Himawari were left alone in the waiting room, only imagining what Liz would do when she got to Cunningham's apartment.

The moment he'd dropped his last bag inside the threshold of his apartment, Cunningham remembered why he hated the off-season. In his younger days, when he'd still been fighting toward the top, he'd exercised and weight trained everyday to insure that come the next season, he'd be in top condition to begin formal training and simulation.

Now, when he WAS the best... or at least second best (he considered Takeshi a formidable pilot who had a lot of skill, but who operated half on dumb-luck, and half on raw unrefined talent), he found himself with significantly less to do to pass the time. Granted, he'd been dealing with the tabloid scandal for the past three days (two not counting the day it had headlined), but now that he and Sir Hamgra had gone to the press conference with the publishers, he had nothing to do but stand vigil and deal with things as they unfurled.

Even if the story was out of the papers for now, people were still talking about it... obsessively... and he needed to watch where he went and who he was seen by for fear of starting the whole scandal all over again. He hadn't seen Amy since their date and when he'd called her earlier, she had not had anything better to say about her own situation. Sir Hamgra had told Satomi about the terms of their agreement with the publishers and he was almost positive that Amy knew as well, but that didn't put him anymore at ease. He was very concerned for Amy, because Sir Hamgra had been right when he'd said that she would not handle the situation well.

Left alone with these thoughts, he'd locked the door and blinded the windows the moment he'd returned from the press conference. Jan had called and offered him an invitation to join him and Dew and some of the other pilots for drinks, but Cunningham had declined, too bogged down by his uncomfortable thoughts and concern for his young girlfriend.

It was nearly 7:30 in the evening now and he lamented his decision to turn down Jan's offer, because it forced him to stay in the apartment and consider for the millionth time that something needed to be done about Amy and that it had to be done soon or he would be driven mad with the frustration.

He'd just settled down to watch TV reluctantly when there was a knock on his door. Looking suspiciously toward the door, he stood up, smoothing out his plain white undershirt, and walked to the door, looking out the peep hole.

"Who is it?"

"Liz Ricarro."

His first reaction was surprise to hear that the Satomi Defender was outside his door, because they'd never had any personal interaction or reason to meet. That obviously meant that if she wasn't here for herself... it was Amy. He opened the door immediately, leaning forward -- and promptly falling back with a punch to the face, hitting the floor with a grunt. Flabbergasted, he held his surely-bruising cheek, looking up at Liz in bewilderment.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, girl?"

"THAT was for Amy! That's only PART of what she had to go through today!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cunningham was a cross between sour and anxious as he climbed to his feet, restraining himself from striking the girl back in favor of hearing about Amy.

"She got jumped almost two hours ago because of you, you bastard."

Cunningham was quiet for a moment, his eyes merely widening in lack of comprehension, but it was easy to see when the understanding dawned on his face because it immediately went from blank to frightening rage.

"WHAT!?"

"You heard me! A bunch of girls jumped her today when she was walking home from the park. They were five of your fans."

Cunningham shot forward, grabbing Liz by the collar, almost lifting her off the ground, shouting as if it had been Liz who'd hurt Amy.

"WHERE IS SHE!? Is she all right?"

Liz didn't fight his grip, for the mere fact that it brought her satisfaction that he'd be so helpless that he needed to take his frustration out on her.

"She's at the hospital. She sprained her ankle and she's got loads of bruises and scratches." Now she slapped his arm away, making him release her. Fixing her shirt, she crossed her arms, giving him her patented "I'm-really-pissed-off-at-you-and-I'm-going-to-treat-you-like-a-baby" glare of disapproval. "You know this is your fault."

The Velshtein Forward was finally at a loss for words and he leaned heavily against the door jamb, his face in his hands. "I can't believe this."

"Well you should, 'cause it's really happening. She keeps paying for your mistake, and what have you gotten for all of this? No one will hurt _you_; you're the big scary Ghost who no one would dream of--"

"I KNOW, ALL RIGHT!?"

Liz was not deterred by his angry outburst, shouting right back.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU TOOK HER OUT WHERE EVERYONE WOULD SEE YOU, ASSHOLE!"

"Easy to say for someone who can go out with her boyfriend without having to worry about things like this." Cunningham's voice had gone drastically quiet and his face was down, obscured by his hair so that Liz couldn't see his expression.

For the first time since she'd gotten there, Liz faltered. Sobering a little, she spoke again, this time in a calm voice.

"She'll come home tonight but she'll need crutches for three days and she has to keep her ankle in a bandage. She... She wanted to see you but we knew it would be bad if we signed her in and then you showed up. Miss Satomi was going to wait with her to get her bandaged when I left the hospital."

Cunningham almost slid to his knees, weak with shock, frustration, anger, and upset. Nodding, he looked up at Liz, and he suddenly looked exhausted, proving that he really had been thinking about her all day, and now, to hear that she'd been hurt was truly draining.

"Thanks... for coming and telling me Liz. I appreciate it."

Liz scoffed, turning her head away. "I didn't do it for you."

"You just wanted to shove it in my face that this is my fault?"

Liz didn't answer him, looking down the hall, almost feigning lack of attention. After a poignant moment of silence, Liz spoke.

"I'm going back. They're probably leaving the hospital soon and I want to be at her house when she gets there."

"Please, take care of her for me."

Liz regarded him solemnly. With only a slight nod of her head, she turned away from him, striding down the hall to the elevator and finally, out of Cunningham's sight.

Cunningham was still standing in the doorway, his head against the frame when he heard the elevator chime and the door open and close, signaling Liz's departure. He stepped back, closing the door almost in a daze. Left in the darkened apartment again, he turned to look out the large windows on the west side of the main room, showing the cityscape quite nicely. The sky was dark with night now and the buildings were all lit up, vibrant and preparing for another busy evening.

Out there, people were spreading vicious rumors about them. Out there, people were speculating about whether he was a pedophile and Amy was a whore. Out there, his girlfriend was being attacked by people she'd done nothing to.

Screaming, he turned violently on his heel and sent his fist flying into the wooden door, making the varnished wood splinter.


	4. Solution for Gossip

So after this, just one chapter to go. None of it's written yet so I don't know WHEN it'll get posted, but I feel like I've taken too long and that this should be posted before everyone forgets the fic (it seems like everyone dropped it at chapter three n___n;;; I hope not.).

On another note, who else loved Takeshi at the end of "Winner's Circle"? I've been pretty mad at him lately but something about him calling Zanak a punk bitch just warmed my heart.

Anywho, onward. I hope it's satisfactory for everyone and that I find the fans I seem to have lost T.T

Disclaimer: IGPX is quite obviously not mine, or these would be five episodes, not five chapters XD And as a little tidbit, the title, for all my fellow Gorillaz fans, IS inspired by the song of the same name :D OH and before I forget, much thanks and love to my lovely Michele for beta-reading for me. I love you Mishy!

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter Four: "Solution for Gossip"

By: TIW

It was almost surreal to be inside the Velshtein HQ. Miss Satomi had never imagined that she would be here at any point during her career in the IGPX, and she didn't know whether she should be excited or completely unnerved.

Granted, she knew why she was here. She'd been the one to request this emergency meeting with Sir Hamgra after speaking with Amy's parents, and now she was anxious to get to Hamgra's office and come to the point of her visit. She didn't recognize the man leading her, but he was very severe looking, almost like a body guard, but without the spiffy sunglasses or the big walkie-talkie, but she suspected he had a Nextel© somewhere on his person for just that purpose. And of course, he sported the pristine white coat that all of Sir Hamgra's elite staff seemed to wear.

The building looked exactly like she'd imagined it to: stark walls with documents and certificates lining the hallways (which certainly spoke for Sir Hamgra's prestige); neatly hidden security cameras (she was only aware of them because she'd seen into the security guard's office when she'd first entered the building); and almost no noise to speak of (though she suspected that was because it was off-season). She couldn't imagine her own team building this quiet or undecorated, but then the Satomi Heavy Industries building was not only used as the team's garage or headquarters.

She was roused from her thoughts when the man leading her stopped curtly, and with a surprisingly friendly smile (so maybe he wasn't so severe), ushered her into the office.

"Sir Hamgra, Mitsuko Satomi here to see you."

Miss Satomi watched as the man bowed to the back of the chair behind the desk, wondering what the point of bowing when you couldn't be seen was; it wasn't very surprising though, seeing as this was Sir Albert Hamgra.

"Thank you, you may go." The voice behind the chair, most undeniably Sir Hamgra, rose and the man who'd escorted her turned and marched out.

When the door to the office closed, Sir Hamgra swiveled about in his chair, gesturing to the chair placed in front of his desk.

"Please Mitsuko, sit."

"Thank you, Albert."

Despite this being the first time in the Velshtein Headquarters, this was not the first time she'd been on informal terms with the highly-esteemed coach. Sitting down primly, she folded her legs, settling herself so that she could calm her anxiety and get through the point of her visit without rambling.

"So, why were you so urgent for this meeting?"

Miss Satomi took a final deep breath, meeting Sir Hamgra's eyes. It was now or never.

"Amy Stapleton's parents called me this morning. They are not at all pleased with recent events, as you can imagine. They knew no more about our pilots' relationship than we did, and on top of that, they are presented with this scandal. To put it lightly, they're furious about the harassment and the hate mail, and even more outraged by leak to the press about all these letters Amy's been getting."

Satomi produced from her pocketbook a white envelope with clearly feminine handwriting, bubbly and large, plainly indicating the youth of the author. She handed the letter to Sir Hamgra, who accepted it and, after flicking on his desk lamp, removed the sheet of loose leaf and briefly skimmed over the letter. A slight chuckle came from the man when he put it down, and he raised almost amused eyes to Miss Satomi.

"These girls seem to have no couth when it comes to Cunningham."

Miss Satomi gave him a withering look, not sharing in the amusement. "They've been coming every day since Amy got out of the hospital from her sprained ankle. It's ridiculous; the letters keep promising the same absurd threats. Thank God none of them are as severe as death threats, but it's still very upsetting."

"So you're here because of these letters?"

"No, of course not. Amy's parents are fed up with the hate mail and the leak to the press about all these letters. They called me to ask if it was within their rights to sue you."

Miss Satomi was pleased to see that Sir Hamgra was no longer quite so amused. He did not look angry, but he'd lost any hint of mirth that had been clinging to his features. Grimly, he leaned forward, lacing his fingers at eye level, a trademark move that meant he was about to "do business."

"Sue me? What have I done to them?"

"They're just angry about this whole situation, and think that you're to blame because you never stopped Cunningham from… _dating_ Amy, I suppose. I encouraged them to think it over hard before they took such drastic moves and assured them that you had no more knowledge than me or them. It's abated them for now, but if something isn't done, they're going to come after you with a lawsuit, and neither of our pilots needs more bad publicity."

Sir Hamgra was pensive for a moment, his eyes closed, forehead resting against his steepled fingers. Satomi sat forward slightly, feeling her anxiety returning with his silence. She herself had been mulling over what could be done and she'd finally come up with the decision that she herself could do nothing and that her only alternative was to rely on Sir Hamgra's numerous connections.

It was in the middle of this repeated process that Sir Hamgra cleared his throat and she snapped back to attention.

"I think it's time that I stepped in to investigate the business with the mail tampering. I can think of no plausible way that the tabloids would have gained knowledge of her mail's content unless they intercepted it at the post office."

Miss Satomi nodded and sat back, more at ease now that Sir Hamgra seemed to be taking an active roll to solve things; she was very confident in her own abilities, but this was an entirely different playing field.

"Thank you Albert."

Sir Hamgra nodded, sitting back in his chair. "I'm going to make some calls now, and if I make any significant discoveries, I'll let you know." Of course, he was completely confident that he'd be successful within the next few hours, because he was not a tolerant man.

"I trust you." Miss Satomi nodded and slid her bag onto her arm, standing up. "You can keep that letter, if it's of any assistance."

"I'll hold onto it. You can see yourself out?"

"I can. Good luck Albert." Miss Satomi nodded to the Velshtein coach and then turned away, walking to the exquisitely made door of Sir Hamgra's office.

"Mitsuko." The severe man waited to continue as Miss Satomi paused, looking back. "Don't worry. I'll have it taken care of by dusk."

"I hope so." Miss Satomi gave a tired sigh, her shoulders slumping. "For all our sakes."

"Wow Amy . . . it looks very different."

Himawari's hands clasped in front of her chest, and her eyes widened as she surveyed the drastic difference in Amy's hair.

"It doesn't look dumb, does it . . ?" Amy's voice was soft and melancholy, a trend of the last few days. She fingered her now above-the-shoulder hair doubtfully, her face uncharacteristically sullen and unenthused.

"O-of course not Amy! I wasn't thinking that at all, it's just that I'm used to your long hair!" Himawari was quick to negate Amy's comment, completely put off by Amy's low mood.

Sadly, this mood wasn't a new one. For the past week, ever since she'd been attacked, Amy had been little more than glum; no one had seen her smile since she'd seen the tabloid ten days earlier.

The new haircut was apparently a tactic in driving off attention. Amy had convinced herself that maybe if she didn't have her recognizably long hair, she wouldn't be as easily noticed outside and could escape some of the scrutiny she'd been so routinely put under. Himawari and Liz, the only two she'd spoken to on the matter, had agreed only because they didn't want it to seem like they didn't support her, something that they'd been meticulous about reminding the girl of constantly.

The newest development in the tabloid scandal was the arrival of the hate mail. After the news of the press conference between Hamgra and the tabloid's president, fans and jealous girls had begun sending Amy scalding letters of anger and hatred, packed with empty threats. Apparently, according to Miss Satomi, Cunningham was under the same fire from Amy's irate fans, but it was obvious that he was much more prepared to ignore and deal with fans.

Miss Satomi had informed Amy that her parents were furious and looking to sue Velshtein for all the trouble they'd been caused, and that was even more alarming than the letters themselves. The very last thing that Amy wished for was to trouble Cunningham more than necessary. Both Miss Satomi and Amy had beseeched the Stapleton's to find an alternative, and more effective, method to stop the mail than pressing charges on the blameless Sir Hamgra and his team.

Then Amy had come up with her plan to cut her hair, and there they were, coming out of the hair salon with over a foot of her hair gone and still depressed. Himawari was completely out of ideas to cheer up the girl and had to rely on her constant presence as a combatant to Amy's growing despair.

"So… do you want ice cream? It's kind of hot out, I bet we could find a really good place!" The exasperated medic attempted to lift Amy's mood, linking their arms.

Amy's head was down, covered by a floppy-brimmed hat, but the girl gave the barest head shake and Himawari's shoulders drooped.

"Oh . . . Just want to go home?"

Now Amy nodded and Himawari pouted, putting her own head down. "Okay . . . But I'm going to call Liz and tell her to get ice cream anyway!"

Amy gave no response and Himawari felt her heart hit bottom. Was there no way to lift Amy's spirits? It seemed that way. So with that, the two girls set off, sullenly, for Amy's big and empty house. If Himawari was sure of anything, it was that Amy probably wouldn't be seeing any sidewalk beside her house's for another few days.

"Ha-ha… that was pretty insane. Those girls were definitely looking to score with us!"

Jan shook his head, grinning at their incorrigible Defender. "Dew, ix-nay on the hos-ay!"

"José? Who's José?" The sad part about the question was the fact that Dew was really confused and that Jan's attempt to shut him up was completely missed.

"Dew, you moron."

"Don't worry guys, it's okay." Cunningham grinned at his teammates' antics, hands in his pockets and head slightly hunched.

Two weeks had passed since the tabloid scandal had started, and in that time, Cunningham had been very discreet about going into town the few times he _had _decided to venture outside the safety of the Track Area. It was probably a blessing in disguise that Jan and Dew had shown up at his door that afternoon, completely determined and resolved to not leave the apartment unless he was accompanying them. They hadn't needed to use much coaxing, but Velshtein's Defender and Midfielder were quite interested in how their Forward's door had mysteriously been irreparably dented and splintered, so much that Cunningham had to convince _them _to leave the apartment.

It was about 9 pm, and they'd already been out for an hour. The clubs and bars were still relatively empty compared to the mobs that usually packed into such places, but none of the men begrudged the extra supply of breathing room.

Fortunately for them, the people at the bars either didn't know about the scandal or didn't care, because nobody had questioned Cunningham about the incident thus far. Jan and Dew had been successful in convincing their comrade to dance at the last club they'd been to, which made for some very happy girls and a slightly looser Ghost.

"Where to now? The night is still young!" Dew turned to face his friends, walking backwards on the crowded sidewalk. The city was coming alive as the nightlife of IGPX City approached full swing.

"What are some other good places to go?" Jan looked between Cunningham and Dew curiously.

"Might as well just pick a place. It doesn't much matter to me." Cunningham shrugged, his eyes wandering across the masses of people crowding outside the restaurants and nightclubs.

"Oh wait! Let's hit Jam and Nancy's¹! We'll get in no problem there; I'm buds with the bouncers." Dew proclaimed, ultimately pleased with himself.

"Well, lead the way oh-connected-one."

Cunningham chuckled as he watched his drink-merry friends almost begin to skip down the sidewalk, chattering about absolutely nothing whilst attempting to draw him into two completely different conversations, unaware of the other.

Their destination was rather crowded, but like Dew had proclaimed, they squeezed past most of the crowd without wait and entered the loud bar. The Velshtein Defender navigated over to an empty table, more to find standing space than to actually sit.

"Okay, dance, drink, or fight?"

"Fight?" Cunningham looked up in confusion, as if he hadn't heard Dew correctly.

"Yeah, J&N's has ring fights in the back after nine. Audience bets, winner gets a free night on bar. Why, are you interested in watching?"

Cunningham looked up and over him, toward the back of the crowded room, where there was an opening in the wall that looked like it led to stairs. That was probably where Dew was referring to, if the distant sounds of shouts were any indication.

"I don't know about watching… but fighting sounds pretty good right about now." Cunningham grinned for the first time in at least a week, hustling past a flabbergasted Jan and Dew toward the stairs.

By the time the two caught up with him, Cunningham was halfway down the stairs, well in view of the ring. Two burley men occupied it and were attempting to wrestle each other into one of the ring's rope barriers, grunting and growling. The audience was mostly male, but there were a fair amount of women as well, all shouting and egging the combatants on.

"Cunningham, are you serious? You really want to fight?" Jan watched his friend's face contort into anxious glee as they continued toward the ring.

"Hell yeah." Cunningham left them, still shocked, to approach the man who looked to be the fights' coordinator, giving his name.

Jan and Dew could see the man jump in slight surprise at what they only guessed was the identity of this new challenger. They joined the Forward just as he was taking a seat to watch the remainder of the fight.

"Man you're crazy. All these muscle-heads are all brawn and no brain. You sure about this?" Dew cuffed Cunningham's arm with a weak fist.

"Yeah I'm sure. Quit worrying. Anyway, this is better than dancing and drinking." Really, this fight seemed a golden opportunity to unload the stress he'd been feeling since the scandal had started and he wasn't going to pass up a good opportunity.

There was one fight ahead of Cunningham's, but it was relatively quick. Some unfortunate little guy was paired with a huge meathead; the winner was obvious before the fight had even begun. As the loser's friends helped him out of the ring, the coordinator picked up his megaphone and announced the next match-up.

"Linden Maltinie and Alex Cunningham!"

There was a hush over the crowd as the two men climbed under the ropes. Alex took off his baggy button-up shirt, throwing it over his shoulder to Jan. He was left in a wife beater with the Velshtein insignia in the top left corner, and he grinned, cracking his knuckles and neck almost menacingly.

The first thing that struck the Ghost about his opponent was the fact that he looked extremely out of place and almost nervous, though not quite. He had overlong red hair, shaggy and hanging around his face, and it was apparent that his untidy appearance was commonplace. The other man was lanky, not a stick but not built either, and calling him wiry would have been a stretch. Even his name, Linden, sounded completely non-threatening.

"Okay boys, you know the drill. Anything goes. First one knocked out of the ring, pinned for three seconds, or knocked unconscious loses. On the bell!"

Cunningham lowered himself, his hand hovering at his side in the draw stance he'd used frequently against Takeshi, completely still, his eyes trained unerringly on his opponent. Linden looked confused for a moment and then relaxed back into a defensive position, his fists up to shield his face.

When the bell rang, Cunningham didn't move. In this position, he could focus his strength into one opening hit, instead of trying to catch the other man off guard with multiple weak hits. If he made contact (which he would, naturally), the redhead would be stunned and he could initiate a barrage. Perhaps he had no Induraga Mano to fall back on, but this meek man was nowhere near the challenge of an accomplished IGPX opponent.

Unnerved, Linden responded to the crowds jeering, and with a wild shout, barreled toward Cunningham, fist back and ready to punch. The Ghost could see the hit coming, calculating with the mind of a pilot when the hit would occur and how much time he had to intercept and retaliate. A moment before Linden launched his punch, Cunningham propelled himself upward with the tension in his legs and brought his crossed arm across, but instead of the thin-air slash he was accustomed to, he balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into his attackers gut.

The effect was instantaneous. Cunningham heard clearly the expulsion of Linden's breath as the wind was knocked from his lungs as the shorter man stumbled back. Counting one second in his head to gather his strength and balance again, the Velshtein Forward sprung forth, his fist connecting with the dazed redhead's cheek.

Sooner than Cunningham had anticipated, Linden regained his footing and blocked the next punch, side stepping the subsequent kick. This successful evasion drew a shout from the crowd and Cunningham bent his knees again, his fist rising in an uppercut, but it was cut short by a knee to the stomach that made him stumble back.

At the moment of impact, something in the back of the Forward's mind broke the confines that had kept it away from notice. The breech made Cunningham's body go rigid and something in him snapped. He shouted savagely, his eyes wide and wild as they were in the heat of a race and without realizing it, muscle memory and instinct took hold of Cunningham and he let himself go.

On the raised metal benches to the side of the ring, Dew laughed while Jan only shook his head.

"Aww shit, skinny is dead now! Cunningham just went SEED mode²!" Dew clapped his hands, stomping his feet on the metal floor, supremely amused.

"Poor guy... He'll never know what hit him." These final words of sympathy were all Jan had to offer as the veritable manslaughter began.

To say that Jan's words were an understatement would be an understatement in itself. Cunningham had truly lost all control of himself as he let all his pent up fury from the past three days and his natural fighting instinct loose on the poor, unsuspecting redhead.

The Ghost, after grabbing the nearly terrified man's collar, threw him forward, slashing downward with his fist and catching the man in the nose as he lost his footing and stumbled backwards. Without pause, Cunningham bolted forward, giving him a one-two jab set-up and then, grabbing his shirt to make sure he didn't stumble out of range, sailed one hard punch straight into his face.

By now, it was obvious from Linden's lack of retaliation and slack-jawed look that he was no longer fit to fight. The second Cunningham let go to prepare another onslaught, the redhead collapsed at his feet, wracking with a short spurt of spasms when he hit the ring floor.

However, much to the crowd's shock, horror, and fascination, Cunningham seemed not to register his win and continued to attack. He'd picked the man up and knocked him down again and was preparing an axe kick when Jan and Dew were forced to jump in and stop him, shaking him.

Although the crowd was not enraged by this lack of restraint, they were sufficiently repelled and when Cunningham had regained his wits enough to duck under the ropes, the people he passed flinched back.

"Uh… the win goes to Alex Cunningham!" The coordinator, not scared but still somewhat in awe, approached the trio holding a small laminated pass. "Impressive fight. Here's your free night."

Alex took the card but immediately handed it off to Dew, turning away to pick up his shirt. When he spoke, his voice was husky and ragged. "Let's go guys."

Bewildered, Jan and Dew watched him head toward the steps without another word. In mild surprise, they looked at each other before hurrying off after their teammate.

Amy scooped up the remainders of her cherry ice cream with her spoon, staring at the TV with mild boredom. Himawari had made good on her promise of getting them ice-cream and convinced Liz to go buy some with Amy's "best interest in mind."

Himawari had left a few minutes prior, mindful of the darkening sky and the ominous gray rain clouds that floated by lazily. Liz was upstairs in the home-gym, occupying herself with the exercise bike. Normally, she'd be out, taking Amy with her, but tonight the weather was not promising and they'd all agreed that they wouldn't be doing anything this particular night.

Leaning forward, Amy placed her empty bowl on the table, picking up the remote whilst she bent over. Curling her feet up onto the spacious couch, she flipped through the channels. She wasn't a big patron of the television, so finding something to watch was not a cinch. Although she had been enjoying the Sailor Moon reruns, they were getting tiresome and so she began her search for something else.

The sports channels, in the off-season, covered the other sports seasons in session, like volleyball and soccer, but sports held no interest for Amy. IG-TV still had its 24-hour coverage of the IGPX, and so in the off-season, it began the player-based news programs – a.k.a. gossip. Although most of it was harmless and generally associated with the IG-2 and IG-3 teams and upcoming stars, the IG-1 was not completely out of the channel's reach, although the net-workers were particularly careful about their scoops, careful not to offend anybody who had power and popularity on their side.

For that reason, IG-TV had stayed diligently away from the tabloid scandal, knowing that it was a small price to pay to avoid the wrath of lawsuits and Sir Hamgra.

Amy had exhausted all the news and sports stations, settling in defeat on the E! Channel. Her disinterest in TV also leant itself to film, so she wasn't up-to-date on most movie-stars and their never-ending escapades of drama, divorce and scandal, but E! was better than listless boredom.

The previous segment had been dedicated to some actress in a pregnancy scandal and Amy sighed, shaking her head. She was about to change the channel when the program's hostess started up her next gossip piece.

"Angelina might be occupied with a baby scandal but she's not the only one in the limelight. Two weeks ago exactly, IGPX City saw the emergence of its own high-profile affair! According to the disparaging tabloid that was released just 14 days ago, 24-year-old Alex Cunningham, forward for the IG-1 Team Velshtein, has allegedly been dating 16-year-old Amy Stapleton, midfielder for IG-1 Team Satomi! Although we are not permitted to release further details on this situation, it has come to our attention that this new development has given way to a host of other problems in the famed Track Area, including suspected mail fraud!"

Amy's breath had long since fled her and she sat frozen in complete mortification and horror. How had this television channel heard of their problem when Sir Hamgra had done an excellent job of squashing all press on the matter? Although there were still nosy photographers crawling around, most of their problems were now with their fans and Amy's parents.

The mail fraud the hostess had mentioned probably referred to all of the hate mail that Amy was getting, but she wasn't quite sure what was so fraudulent about it, unless there was something she didn't know about.

"For the past two days, a select few publications have been printing examples of the hate mail being received by the two pilots. Although it is a possibility that the authors might have sent their letters to the publishers, more than one person in IGPX City's reputable law force is asking questions! This project is currently being spearheaded by Velshtein's talented coach Sir Hamgra! Only time will reveal the truth! Next up we have . . ."

The rest of the hostess's words were unheard by Amy as she felt her head spin with this new, terrifying knowledge. More tabloids were publishing her hate mail? Why didn't she know about it? True she didn't read the tabloids out of strict habit, and had spent another several-day stretch secluded in her house, but someone must have known, and in fact, somebody did if Sir Hamgra was leading the investigation against it.

She felt sick to her stomach, literally and figuratively. Just when it seemed things were beginning to wind down and they were slowly moving out of the public's short attention span, something else had come up to keep them firmly rooted in the spotlight. What had they done to deserve all this other than like each other? How was that a crime?

Amy clenched her fists as tears welled up in her eyes and she bent her head, trying to stifle her sobs. She didn't want Liz to see her like this, not after all she and the rest of the team had done to try to make her feel better.

However, the more she tried to fight her tears, the harder they pushed her and she couldn't avoid the onslaught of sobs that took over her. This wasn't happening. How could this possibly be happening?

Seized by grief and humiliation, Amy jumped off the couch, running toward the exit of the room, hitting the light switch absently as she passed. Covering her mouth with one hand, she tried to muffle her cries as she ran to the front door. Through glassy, unfocused eyes, she managed to find her shoes and slipped them on haphazardly, throwing the door open. It had begun to pour outside, but she needed to leave the house or she'd be subject to another night of crying herself to sleep without any possibility of comfort.

"I'm sorry Liz." She whispered it between sobs as she ran out into the cold and wet, slamming the front door behind her.

In mid pull-up, Liz paused, alerted by the sound of something slamming from the first floor. Curiously, she let go of the pole, only to have her chin smack the bar on the way down.

"MOTHER FUCKER OUCH!!!"

Rubbing her chin, wiping away the slight tearing from her eyes, she looked at the door of the home gym and climbed to her feet.

"What was that . . .?" Curiously, Liz grabbed the towel hanging by the door and wiped her face off. Throwing the towel back onto the hook, she opened the door, peering down the hall toward the staircase that led to the first floor. "Hey Amy!?"

When the girl didn't answer her call, she jogged out of the room and to the stairs. Amy still didn't answer her calls, so she hurried down and, gauging both directions, turned left to investigate the lounge where Amy and Himawari had been sitting when she'd left for her workout.

The light to the lounge was off but the TV was still on, which was very unlike Amy. She was environment-conscious and all that conservationist stuff, and leaving the TV on with no one watching it was certainly not helping the energy movement, or whatever it was they were calling it these days.

"Hey Amy!? Where are you?"

Still, the girl wasn't answering and Liz was beginning to worry. The house was big, but Liz was loud and if Amy was there, she would have heard her. Liz hurried around the house, checking the rooms Amy might be in. Even though it was highly unlikely for her to be there, Liz even checked the second floor. By the time she'd swept every room once, Amy was still nowhere to be found and Liz was rightfully bothered. Preoccupied with curiosity and concern, Liz returned to the first floor, pausing to think. The sound she'd heard was obviously the slam of a door, so if Amy wasn't in any of the rooms, what other door was there?

Realization dawning, Liz hurried to the front door only slightly left of the staircase. There was an entryway almost reminiscent of Japanese homes, the floor of the house raised about eight inches from the actual ground. There was a small area of tiling just inside the front door where all their shoes sat, along with a small table with a pad and pencil and a vase of flowers with an umbrella basket sitting next to it. On the walls of the entryway were framed family photos and magazine cutouts detailing an array of events having to do with family members. Some had to do with Team Satomi and others were of Amy's academic achievements from when she was younger.

Upon inspection, Amy's shoes were absent and Liz had been living there long enough to know that Amy didn't usually move her shoes from the doorway. Looking up, Liz's eyes widened and she threw the door open. It was pouring outside and Amy's shoes were gone – Amy was outside somewhere in this deluge, without an umbrella (because said umbrella was still sitting in the basket beside the table).

"Aww crap!" Liz took a step outside, only to be shocked back into the house by a loud crack of thunder. "Shit shit shit! Amy, are you crazy!?"

Liz pulled the door shut, running to the kitchen and yanking the phone from the wall. It would figure that the night Amy chose to disappear, her parents would be away on business. That might turn out to be a good thing though, if they couldn't find her right away. Dialing quickly, she called the first person who came to mind.

"_Uh, hello?"_

"TAKESHI! We have a serious problem here!"

"_Liz? What's the matter?_"

"Amy split! She went out in the rain and I don't know where!"

"_Did you call her cell phone?_"

Liz paused. "…No."

"_Well try calling her before you go calling me in the middle of the night!_"

"Takeshi, it's only nine!" Liz rolled her eyes, but was greeted by dial tone. "Idiot." She disconnected the call and dialed Amy's number, waiting on pins and needles, only to nearly hit the ceiling as Amy's ring tone went off behind her. Turning, she muttered a curse upon site of Amy's cell phone sitting on the kitchen island's counter. So Amy wasn't carrying her cell phone.

Dialing again, she shouted the second she heard the line pick up.

"She doesn't have her phone. She left it here."

"_You're sure she's not in the house somewhere?_"

"Yes! I checked every single room, she's not here!"

"_Okay okay. What do we do?_"

"Call Miss Satomi!"

"_Why?_"

"She'll know what to do! Just get your ass up, we have to find her."

"_What if she just left to go out or something?_"

"She'd tell me if she was leaving. And she didn't take an umbrella, and it's pouring outside. I don't know why, but something doesn't feel right, like there was something wrong and that's why she left."

"_I think you're crazy, Liz."_

"OI! Just shut up and be ready if we have to search!" Growling, she slammed the phone down. "Stupid Takeshi. Absolutely useless!"

They needed to call Miss Satomi. Besides the fact that she was a signed legal guardian for Amy who wasn't old enough to represent herself yet, she was their coach and had been taking care of them for four years now. She would know what to do.

Picking up the phone, she dialed the woman's number.

"Look… even though we should always assume the worst, I don't think Amy's in trouble. Perhaps she needed to leave the house for some reason?"

They were all wet and two hours later, all of Team Satomi and River Marque had scoured the residential area and almost all of the Track Area for Amy and still had nothing to show for it.

"Where could she be? We searched practically everywhere and still no dice!" Himawari put her head down on the table, her shoulders sagging. "Oh I hope she's all right…"

They'd reassembled in defeat at the Satomi Heavy Industries building, out of ideas and low on morale.

"Do you think she went home…?"

"I doubt it. I left a note asking her to call me if she got home before I did." Liz sighed dejectedly, rubbing her drenched head.

"Do you think…"

Everyone turned to look at River curiously and he jumped.

"What!?"

"Continue what you were saying!" Liz urged, leaning forward slightly.

"I was going to say, do you think she went to Cunningham's place…?"

There was a beat of silence as they all looked at each other.

"… Well that's a possibility!" Miss Satomi looked at the pilots expectantly. "One of you, call him and see if she's there."

"I don't have Cunningham's number." River put his hands up to free himself of the duty. "Sorry guys."

"I don't have it either…" Liz swore, snapping her fingers.

"Oh, I do. At least, his cell phone I think. He gave it to me a while back, don't remember when . . ." Takeshi paused, mind drifting off.

"Ugh, who cares!? Just try calling him!" Liz nearly jumped across the table, slamming one hand down on the on the shiny surface.

"Geez, calm down!" Takeshi gave her a withering look as he pulled his phone out, dialing. "What do I say?"

"Just ask him if Amy's with him." Miss Satomi took over, aware that Liz just might blow a fuse if they delayed any further.

"Do I tell him she's missing?"

There was a moment of silence around the table. That was a good question indeed. They all knew of Cunningham's temper from Takeshi, and he certainly wouldn't be happy if they were to tell him that they'd lost his girlfriend in the rain.

"Don't lie to him. If he asks, tell the truth." Miss Satomi sighed, looking at the phone in Takeshi's hand.

They all paused in tense silence, watching as Takeshi put his phone on the table and turned on speakerphone. Everyone's shoulders stiffened as they heard the line on the other end pick up and Cunningham's voice answer.

"'_ello?"_

He was exhausted, but in the satisfied way that made you grin for no reason. For the first time in two weeks, he'd actually been able to enjoy himself, and though he felt a little guilty for that, there was nothing he could do to put a damper on his mood.

Cunningham had parted ways with Dew and Jan after visiting a couple more bars. By the time 11 pm rolled around, Dew was completely sloshed, and Jan was following quickly; leave it to them to be done before the party really started. He himself had chosen not to drink, because no doubt if he did, he'd wake up at a foreign location with no clothes and a killer hangover. He remembered getting very drunk only once at a victory party after their victory in the IGPX . . . needless to say, Cunningham was a party animal when he had a drop in him.

The night had only turned sour at one moment, and it wasn't enough to ruin his mood.

"_Man, that was incredible . . . Those chicks were so hot."_ _Jan mumbled it almost inaudibly, but Dew's answering chuckle was enough to indicate agreement._

"_That's what I'm saying . . . Makes me wish we weren't always so tied up by the IGPX. We need some girls bro . . ." Dew sighed, stretching as they walked away from their latest conquest._

_Cunningham was still feeling completely relaxed from the fight at Jam and Nancy's, so he only half-listened to his friends' inebriated banter._

"_Hey Cunningham, what about you?" Jan turned his glazed eyes on their Forward, grinning foolishly._

"_What about me?" Cunningham glanced back at him, curiously._

"_Girls I mean! You should just get yourself a good woman that you can hang with all the time. I mean, what's the point of robbing the cradle when all you're going to get is bad publicity and a walk on the beach."_

_If not for the fact that Jan was a little more than tipsy, Cunningham might have given him a pair of black eyes. Tension filled his shoulders and he turned on Jan and Dew, a forced lazy grin on his face._

"_I know what you mean guys."_

"_See, he sees some sense. I'm not saying she's not cute, but man come on . . . Is it really that great?" Dew asked it, his speech slurred._

_Cunningham for a moment actually paused to consider this question. Amy was 16, and he wasn't going to force anything on her that she didn't want, and because of her shy nature, propositioning her was sometimes very awkward._

_He'd never mentioned sex to her and he wasn't all together sure that it had even ever crossed her mind, and for him, that was both good and bad. One of the things that endeared him to Amy was her innocence that hailed from being so sheltered, but for a 24-year-old like himself, no sex was a bit of a strain on his hormones. Was she so special that he had to suppress his own natural urges just so she wouldn't be uncomfortable? Sometimes it didn't seem like it, what with the difficulty of dating a rival pilot AND keeping it a secret at the same time._

_Clearing his throat, he frowned a little at his own thoughts. _

"_I don't know . . . I guess having a woman would be pretty nice."_

"_Then why don't you go get one! Just tell Amy that you guys should let this situation cool off for a while." Jan grinned, clapping Cunningham on the shoulder._

"_Good idea. While I'm at it, I'll arrange a tea party with Sir Hamgra and sign Dew up for the next addition of "Great Minds" on NBC." Cunningham's voice was so full of sarcasm that Jan and Dew almost felt burned by his comment._

"_That was harsh man!"_

_Cunningham turned away, his voice calm. "I know you're looking out for me, but I have no intention of breaking up with Amy, so let's not mention it again."_

"_Well, sure, but—"_

"_No, no. That wasn't a question."_

Hopefully, Dew and Jan would be so drunk by the time they hit their own beds that they wouldn't remember their little interrogation. The night had moved on nicely after that and there was no more talk of getting another girlfriend.

He was only just beginning to nod off when his pocket started buzzing violently and "Go For It" by GranRodeo began to blare in the silence.

Groggily, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and pressed the 'Accept Call' button, bringing it to his ear.

"'ello?"

"_Hey Cunningham, it's Takeshi._"

Cunningham frowned, wondering why Takeshi would be calling him and where he'd gotten his number from; it was possible he'd given it to the other pilot a while ago.

"Uh, hey Takeshi. What's up?"

"_Listen, have you seen Amy at all tonight?_"

The Velshtein Forward could hear voices and shuffling in the background and muffled voices.

"No I haven't." A moment after he'd answered, his face darkened and his voice lowered. "Why?"

Now he heard a timid groan in the background that wasn't Takeshi and assumed that he must be on speaker.

"_We uh . . . Well we can't get a hold of her and wondered if maybe she ran off to see you without telling us."_

Cunningham looked out the window, observing the rain. Around the time they'd gotten to Jam and Nancy's, the sky had gotten very overcast and rain had started up. They'd stuck under the multiple awnings on the city strips while moving from club to club, and thus were able to avoid the rain . . . but Amy was outside in this weather? And seemingly with none of her friends?

"What do you mean you can't get a hold of her?" Cunningham's voice got increasingly darker as he leaned forward on the couch, her brows furrowing and creasing his forehead.

"_She left her house without telling me and didn't take her phone with her! She's out alone somewhere and we've spent two hours looking for her, but she hasn't shown up!"_

That, he knew from experience, was Liz Ricarro's voice. Her words made his blood run cold and he stood up, rigid with tension as he walked quickly to the windows, looking out in horror at the downpour.

"Did you look everywhere!? Residencies and the Track Area?!"

"_Yes! We looked everywhere we thought she might be but we haven't found her! That's why we called you!"_

Even as she was finishing her sentence, he hurried to his lounge closet, pulling out his leather jacket and a hardy flashlight. He slammed the door closed and pushed his feet into his sneakers.

"I'm going out to look for her."

"_But wait, where—"_

"Shut up! If I find her, I'll call you."

"_Why don't we all—"_

"No. She didn't go to you, so she wanted to get away." He wanted to be cruel. He wanted to hurt them for letting Amy go out by herself, obviously distraught if she'd left no word. Even if he didn't know that for sure, his gut told him that Amy hadn't left for a stroll in the park.

"I will call you." Cunningham flipped his phone shut vigorously, pulling out his keys hastily and throwing on his jacket as he ran out the door, locking it hastily and getting a firm grip on the flashlight.

Where on Earth would Amy be at this hour, out in the pouring rain? She didn't have her cell phone, so she couldn't be tracked, and in the dark, it would be twice as hard to navigate on foot, let alone find Amy.

Where would she have gone? In his experience with the girl, she liked to be alone when she was sorting out her thoughts, so she wouldn't be at another person's house and definitely wouldn't be on the city strip. The Track Area? Supposedly, Team Satomi had searched without luck. She was smart enough not to wander aimlessly, so she would go somewhere she'd been before.

Obviously the IGPX Track was one, but again, it had been searched. What was the near the track but not in the immediate Track Area?

He stopped at the door of the complex, mulling over this question. Near the track, familiar, and within walking distance . . .

Cunningham's head snapped up. The boardwalk.

Amy had huddled herself on one of the benches on the boardwalk's observatory deck, scolding herself for not taking an umbrella (even if it probably wouldn't have done much).

She'd had two hours to calm herself and though she wasn't crying anymore, and was calm, her gut was still twisted with upset. The media's cruelty was definitely something she'd acknowledged in the past, but being a victim of it made said cruelty that much harsher. Even though news of the scandal had dropped a few pegs of importance in the public's eye, it was by no means forgotten, and she had to be careful on the streets.

It was safe to go out for the most part, but some people still harassed her, or worse, tried to tell her how sorry they were for her and that they'd changed their opinions of Alex forever (apparently some of her fans now thought that Alex was a threatening pedophile and that he had drawn her into his own scandal. That was news to her.).

She'd reached the boardwalk on mental autopilot, mind too occupied with the news and the mail fraud mystery. Sitting on the bench, with her knees pulled to her chest, she shivered from the cold, wishing again she'd thought better than to run out of the house without protection against the weather.

She wanted nothing more than to go home to her warm and safe house, but she couldn't face Liz now, who had no doubt figured out by now that she was gone. She hoped idly that Liz didn't know yet, but that was about as likely as Takeshi and Liz going an entire day without fighting.

With her forehead against her knees, and her eyes squeezed shut, she could almost block out the cold and the sound of the rain, which had dulled with lack of attention. She sighed, ignoring the fact that she felt her brain trying to doze, because she had somehow grown comfortable. Idly, she wondered what it would be like to just fall asleep here. That would certainly be a sight to see in the morning.

"Amy."

Her entire body jumping with fear, her head whipped up, eyes round.

"Alex?"

1 - Very obvious reference to Jam and Nancy in Snowboard Kids.  
2 - Another obvious reference to Snowboard Kids XD Linden Linda. Stupid whore P

Anyway, I hope that was good and got everyone's adrenaline pumping. Please review! IT MAKES ME FEEL CONFIDENT!

Later guys ;D

***11/16/09 – I'm pretty sure nobody believed this would ever get an ending. I think I didn't for a while. But for whatever reason, I've actually started working on it again, so I think everyone that still cares ( D'8) can actually expect an ending in the near future. Last chapter is near completion as of this date, so stay tuned.


	5. Shed the Weight

A/N: So… I really don't have much to say here other than I'm very sorry to everyone who was a loyal reader of this story. I never intended to take so long to finish it and although I knew I would, I don't blame anyone who would think otherwise! All I can say is that it is DONE and that I promise to have the final chapter posted by the end of the weekend after a little editing (it's become six chapters instead of five).

It's been like six years coming but here's the resolution to that really bad cliffhanger :B Please enjoy, you're all fantastic.

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter Five: "Shed the Hurt"

By: Icecubey (TIW)

* * *

She swallowed, shoulders, arms – everything – tense as her eyes swept over the tall man standing in front of her. His clothes dripped with rainwater, his hair plastered to his forehead; everything about his posture, from the hunch in his shoulders to the stiffness of his arms and legs belied fatigue. She could just make out the fine quivering of his form, the chill having crept into his skin and bones. Altogether, he was in a very sad state.

Her breath rushed out of her.

"Alex, how did you—"

"Are you all right?"

Amy's head sunk again and her body relaxed against the bench's back, the rain sucking her drenched shirt to the sturdy surface.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Alex sucked in a breath, his pocketed hands fisting. He turned his back to her, pressing his chin to his collar and pinching his eyes shut. His shoulders bunched up as he let some of his concern slide off him with the rain. In its place settled agitation.

"What are you doing out here when it's pouring?"

"I just wanted to get out of the house, that's all." Amy's voice was hovering on normal, but she couldn't help the slight exhaustion, mental and physical, weighing her down.

"To take a shower?" His voice was incredulous, frustrated. "Amy, what happened?"

She flinched, because his tone had perceptibly hardened. Was he angry with her? Because it was the last thing she needed.

"It's nothing now, I'm over it. I just got a little upset."

"Well you picked a fine way to cool off." In his mounting exasperation, the Forward hardly noticed his pun.

"Alex, don't get angry with me, please!" Amy's voice rose suddenly, so much that it was disconcerting, like a car crash in the middle of the night.

"Amy, I've been scared shitless for over an hour, and I _don't _like that feeling. I thought something had happened to you!"

"Well nothing has, so you don't have to be scared anymore!" It wasn't in Amy's nature to reciprocate anger, so she attempted to placate him instead. "I saw… it was just another stupid gossip program talking about us! It got me upset, so I came out here… to try and calm down." She realized that the state of the weather might indicate _how _upset she'd been, but she hoped he didn't push the issue. She just wanted it to be over and done with.

The Ghost's tension faded with her words though, saving her the worry. He sunk to a seat beside her, pulling her sopping body against his, forehead to her temple.

"Amy, baby… I'm sorry."

She let out a woeful breath, one small hand reaching up to take his and squeeze it. "It's not your fault I'm such a lightweight."

Alex felt his gut sink. Amy really was fragile, and he wasn't sure there was anything he could really do for her. He tried to assure her as much as possible, in every phone call and email he sent, but there were only so many things he could tell her.

"No lightweight could beat me four times and live to tell about it." He lifted his face and pressed his mouth to her cheek, pressing his nose into her skin.

Amy giggled, leaning into him. "I guess that's true."

Her giggle was a good sign, and he took it as such. Extracting himself from her and the bench, he grabbed one of her hands and stood. "Well come on, it's pouring and ain't about to stop. I don't enjoy wet clothes much."

The Satomi Midfielder flinched, resisting his tug. "I don't know Alex."

"Relax, I'm not going to take you home. You can come stay at my place tonight, and face your nosy friends tomorrow."

Now, she did realize he was doing it to make her comfortable, recognizing her lack of desire to face Liz and the others; he really was very thoughtful, something she hadn't credited many men in her lifetime for, including her illustrious teammates. But heaven help her if the thought of sleeping in his apartment didn't set her face practically aflame.

"Amy?"

"C-coming!"

* * *

"Yeah she's fine . . . No, she's asleep . . . Don't worry, I'll bring her home tomorrow morning. She was too tired and upset . . . No!"

Amy froze at the kitchen doorway, watching Alex's back as he spoke into his cell phone with, presumably, someone from her team. She watched the Velshtein Forward with bated breath, her laced hands tightening on one another.

"It's not that. She just wants to sleep and get a good night's rest. Nothing will happen. Now, good night . . . Yeah, thanks. Night."

Amy sighed, feeling her anxiety lessen now that the dreaded phone call was done with. She leaned her head against the whitewashed walls, wet hair sticking to the smooth paint. Alex had removed his shirt, seeing as a gallon worth of rainwater had saturated it. Amy was convinced that he had ulterior motives to walking around shirtless, because Alex certainly wasn't beyond his own hormones, and she knew it. So often, before they'd been "revealed to the world", they'd gone on dates where he proved himself nothing but virile male. That wasn't to say that he'd gotten any farther than kissing her, but his inherent sensuality during those moments said plenty about his nature. Respectful or not, Alex was as horny as the next guy.

Thoughts like these always made Amy squirm. She herself was approaching legal age, and it sometimes worried her (not that she'd ever admit it while she still drew breath) that she'd yet to do anything but kiss Alex. After all, wasn't she expected to have given at least a little more than that by now? Though she didn't pry, Takeshi had said enough to indicate that he and Fantine didn't walk around discussing the IGPX on (all of) their dates, especially those that had him returning to his house at two in the morning. Liz was more cryptic about her relationship with River, but RIVER certainly wasn't. In fact, he was more than happy to volunteer information about their bedroom activities (apparently, he counted their so-called "encounters" and kept note of their locations. That fact alone made Amy regret ever giving it thought in the first place; what was she to think when she looked at her own kitchen table, knowing full well it had seen action the night before?)

And yet, despite her preternatural shyness and naivety, a small but growing part of Amy did not deny her natural impulses. Green as she was, she was a teenage girl just entering her prime, and Alex had only succeeded in making her like him more as the days passed. She could never blame the present events on him, and she wasn't sure she would trade the day that had caused it all if she could. Though she knew about as much about intimacy as anyone her age, she had yet to ever have hands-on experience. And that bold, smitten part of her craved it at the hands of the man in front of her.

"Babe, you okay?"

Suddenly, she was staring at a slightly hunched Alex who'd approached her in her daze. His face was very close, and it sent her skidding back from sheer surprise (and embarrassment, given her current train of thought). She turned around, covering her face in humiliation.

"Y-yes!"

Alex only laughed, closing the gap between them once more and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Relax baby, I'm not going to bite you."

"I know that," she mumbled, her voice tight.

"Uhh, look," Alex began again, letting her go, "I can give you a t-shirt and boxers for tonight, so you can let your clothes dry; we can wash them in the morning. I'd go ask my neighbor for some pajamas, but I don't know how closely she's been following this whole thing. She might freak if she knew you were here." He chuckled a bit sheepishly, calling to mind his teeny-bopper neighbor. She may have been old enough to live alone, but sometimes he had to wonder.

"Th-that's all right!" She shifted her weight, looking at the floor as she turned to face him again. "Beggars can't be choosers."

"Okay, cool." He was well aware of her hesitance, but they were limited now, and so there wasn't much else he could do at the moment. Leaving her to gather her wits, he retrieved the aforementioned clothing from his spacious bedroom, walking to the mouth of the hall that held his room, the bathroom, a guest room, a small office, and a laundry room. Together with the living room and kitchen that the hall looked out on, the apartment covered almost half of his side of the building floor. No one ever said IGPX pilots were poor. "Amy, come change in the bathroom. I left the clothes in there."

Alex watched his small girlfriend dart down the hall to join him, following his gesture to the bathroom. She slipped in and shut the door in silence, saying nothing save for a mousy 'okay'.

He could see her ill-veiled nerves but was guiltily ignoring them. Though he was being as gentlemanly as possible, it didn't change the fact that his girlfriend of several months was finally sleeping in his apartment for the night, and that automatically threatened his well-maintained restraint around her.

With this in mind, he retreated to his room, quickly donning a pair of boxers to replace his wet pants. He briefly considered putting on more than that, but the baser, more _honest _part of him scoffed at such obvious denial; more clothes, though courteous to Amy, would obstruct the urges he was losing against. Besides, he reasoned, if nothing really came of tonight, it wouldn't matter if he wore a shirt or not; there was nothing suggestive about a bare male torso after all.

Cracking his neck, the Forward leaned in the doorway of his room, crossing his arms and gritting his teeth, feet tapping awkwardly. He shouldn't have felt anxious in his own home, but there was no helping the fact that tonight was anything but ordinary. Groaning in frustration, he ran an urgent hand through his wet hair, and glanced around his room with pent-up agitation.

With nothing to distract him, Alex walked stiffly back into the living room, looking for anything to keep him occupied while Amy took what seemed like hours to change. He walked back to his (now repaired) front door, checking the locks again, and then flipped off the lights over the entryway. Taking a few short steps toward the kitchenette, he flipped those lights out too, and then walked back to the center of the living room. It was pathetic, but he felt lost in his own home.

"A-alex…?"

He looked up expecting to see his girlfriend, but saw only a small slant of light coming from the bathroom. He walked back into the hall, approaching the door.

"What is it babe?" As he reached for the knob of the slightly-ajar door, Amy's voice pierced suddenly.

"Don't come in!"

His brows furrowed, and he peered into the bathroom through the small sliver the door revealed. He could see the bent legs of his girlfriend; she was sitting up against the wall beside the doorway, and was hugging her knees to her chest tightly. He couldn't see her face, but he was sure he didn't want to.

"Amy, what's wrong?" Standing awkwardly outside the door, he respected her earnest request and planted himself against the wall, looking at the office door across from him rather than trying to spy.

"I'm just… Alex I don't want to keep doing this!"

The wavering stress in her voice made him want to kick the door in and pull her to him, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate it in the state she was in. He had a feeling that Amy had never felt so cornered in her life, and wasn't sure how to deal with it; her first reaction was to shoulder it on her own, like she had everything else in her life.

"Babe… I know, me neither. If I knew it wouldn't put you in the hot seat, I'd say fuck it to this whole clandestine operation. I'm not ashamed of being with you." Although he hadn't intended to make a heartfelt statement, he couldn't help but tell her the truth. Never once had he questioned if their relationship was worth all of the scalding tabloid articles and irate fans. Having Amy was a better salve for the pains in his life than he'd found since he entered the world of IGPX, and he wasn't going to forfeit that to over-opinionated and nosy media-hounds.

"What are we supposed to do?" Her small voice wafted from the bathroom again, smaller than before. He cringed, fighting the urge to join her once more.

"Sir Hamgra and Ms. Satomi are trying to get to the bottom of it. If everything goes according to the plan, we should be out of—"

"No we won't!" Amy shrieked suddenly, making Alex jump. "People aren't going to change their minds about us because we prove that someone leaked mail or catch the guy that took our picture! When is this going to stop!?"

"Amy, babe, I don't know. But I'm not going to let something else happen to you because of me!" Alex's voice was hard, trying to project the steeliness that he didn't feel. "You think I want it on my conscience that you're the one suffering more for this? I'm not going to let someone else hurt you on my account."

"This isn't just about how you feel Alex!" Amy seemed to crumple, her voice becoming more muffled, like she was burying her face in her knees. "I don't want to keep hiding behind this fake sense of security! I just want to be happy, even if it means facing our problems head on."

"We are facing them Amy. It's not like we're pretending it didn't happen; we just don't want you to get hu—"

"_YOU'RE_ HURTING ME!"

Alex sucked in a huge breath; her shriek was like a sucker punch to the gut. The sensation of all of his hair standing on end made his skin prickle, like the feeling one got when they were extremely anxious, caught in a truth they could not, or would not face.

In the bathroom, Amy slammed one clutched fist into the tiled floor, hurting her hand more than the black ceramic. The dull thud was accented by a hitched sob, which she had been trying to hold back desperately since she'd entered the bathroom and seen her own, sad reflection. She thought that her lonely childhood had been the worst pain she'd felt, and one that she'd left behind. Shouldn't those phantom feelings have prepared her for the sensation of complete loss she'd been shouldering for two weeks? Perhaps she didn't need to see Alex everyday, but missing him for two weeks, and being made to feel guilty for it, had finally weighed her down.

She tilted her head back, eyes lifting toward the light, letting her pooling tears overflow onto her reddened cheeks, her gritted teeth making her cries sound choked and muffled. She was done with revisiting her loneliness; she was not going to let this new presence in her life, one that was filling a gap in her heart she hadn't realized she had, be kept from her because _he_ thought it would help.

In the hallway, the Ghost wrestled his own instinct to burst into the bathroom, his shock and hurt holding him just barely back. In his mind, he sorted out her words; what he and her teammates by proxy were doing was bringing her more pain than peace. Perhaps to Amy, a sprained ankle was the least hurt she'd suffered in the prior fourteen days. But still, his primal protective instinct could not permit him to waver in what seemed like the sensible, right thing to do for Amy.

"Amy." Her name fell from his mouth like lead, heavy with the evidence of her accusation. "If you are hurt again because some stupid girl is trying to make a point, in _my_ name, I swear it will hurt _me _more!" Strangely, the Ghost was feeling more vulnerable than he could ever remember, and all at the mercy of this sixteen year old girl.

As if to strengthen his resolve, Cunningham forced himself away from the bathroom door, backing into the living room, stopping just soon enough to avoid colliding with his coffee table. Perhaps if he could put space between them, he could drag back the weak strands of reason that were being obscured by his real feelings.

"You cannot tell me what _hurts _more, Alex!" The shrill rebuff from the bathroom broke one more thread of logic from the man's grip.

"Amy… please, try to understand. I'm doing this for you! For _us_!" The Forward had no idea that his voice had turned to pleading, and that now _he _was on the defense in this fight. "I want the best for you!"

Somewhere down the road, if Alex could remember this moment in time, he might smile at his pure stupidity, and maybe too, his sheer dumb luck.

There was a frightening clatter followed by the sounds of scrambling from the bathroom, and a moment later, harsh light fell across the hallway and Amy nearly fell over the threshold, gaining her balance haphazardly by bracing her arms against the walls. As if to make him understand her current physical state, her vision made Alex's breath hitch and every inch of skin ignite.

More disheveled, or beautiful, than he'd ever seen her, Amy stood haggard in the hall, bathed in the light of the bathroom. In her otherwise dark and blotchy face, her eyes were bright and fierce, burning from beneath the nest of her hair. He could just about see her entire torso with only a bare minimum left to incense him as she wore his shirt half-buttoned – and nothing more.

Amy took a deep, equilibrating breath, standing up straight and clenching her fists with iron bravado.

"You will not tell me what is best for me when you don't have the first clue!" Her eyes glittered angrily with her stray tears, accented by the faint quiver of her body. "I spent _eleven _years trying to compensate for my loneliness because I thought that was my only option. I'm _finished_ with compromising."

Alex had no voice to give her any kind of answer; if he'd had one, he wouldn't have known what to say. At the same time that he digested her bewilderingly furious words and guise, he drank in the sight of her. She was a far removal from the prim, collected girl he was used to now, a shadowed reflection that represented every base, honest, angry, pained and passionate emotion she had ever felt. He had not realized until now that he had become irrevocably subjected to her every want.

"Let me tell you what I want. I can live with what has happened and what will happen, but I want it to be with you. Please let me feel like I'm a part of your life, one that you don't want to miss." She shook, knowing that the words that she spoke left her completely open, without any place to hide; these were words that she could not take back. And with them she was putting herself completely at his mercy, revealing every selfish feeling she'd thought she would guard for the rest of her life.

"Amy, I—" Alex found just enough voice out of his desire to comfort her, to assure her that he did want her with him. But he could not do it at the fault of the last coherent words she'd speak that night.

"Alex, let me feel like you want me here. _Make_ me feel like a part of you."

If he had to remember with clarity every moment of the remainder of that night, he could – in HD. But to describe it in words would have been beyond his capacity.

In the few, slow seconds that passed in stillness in the wake of her entreaty, the Ghost let go of the tethers of reason holding him. He let go of strategy, of logic, of cold calculation, and let run the feelings that had made him a winner for Velshtein, earned him a name that every person in his city knew, and brought him all he'd ever truly wanted. He let surge the passion that had urged him, against all likelihood, to bring Amy into his life.

His footfalls were silent, his reflexes bringing him before Amy quicker than maybe either of them registered. Before conscious thought had caught up with them both, they were entangled, lying on the carpet of the short hallway. But by the time it did, it hit the blockade called desire and fell to the wayside. There was no room for reflection between their bodies, not an inch to spare between their flushed, writhing forms. There was only lust, for each other and for belonging, driving the clash of their tongues and hands on each other.

When Amy thought back to those hastily and wonderfully spent hours into the morning, she would remember with amusement that they never made it to a bed, couch, or pillow. They didn't need anything but the person crushed against them; for that reason, Alex had sometimes jokingly referred to himself as enslaved.

All they needed, for however long they could manage, was each other. And in the hush of their ragged breaths, moans, and cries, they'd heard what was really being said.

'I want you, I need you, and, surely, I _must _love you.'

* * *

The following morning dawned gray, an omen that the previous night's rain had not fully run its course. The dull sky blanketed IGPX City in calm lethargy, making all slow to rise and reluctant to be productive (except maybe the tireless Sir Hamgra). The streets did not fill with traffic as they usually did, further muting the dwindling energy of IGPX City as it kicked off its off-season in full.

This sluggishness had permeated every home, including that of Velshtein's Forward. Though Alex had roused somewhere around the odd hour of 7 AM, it had only resulted in him picking up himself and Amy from the floor and dragging his feet to his huge bed, where they'd fallen and re-entangled themselves, drifting back into blissful sleep.

Finally, almost five hours later, Alex had reawakened groggily, stirring slowly; something about rainy days made it especially hard to leave his bed. Of course, on this particular morning it was impossible to do so. After taking in the sight of his ceiling, his senses came to him and he rolled to his side to see Amy next to him, wrapped in a sheet from the waist down. She was still sleeping, completely taxed from the night before. She had a serious case of bed-head, leaving some of her hair to fall across her face. She was on her side, arms bent so that her hands fisted at her mouth, almost like a baby chewing on her small fingers. Wholly, she was a sight for sore eyes, which eradicated any idea of leaving bed.

Though he'd passed some time just watching her sleep, he couldn't help but grow restless. Reluctant to wake her, he'd torn himself from the sheets to use the bathroom and combat his morning wood. As he loped back to the bed minutes later, he noted that the Midfielder seemed to be rousing, though he couldn't call her 'awake'. He slid into bed as carefully as he could, sidling up to her. Taking one hand, he ran his fingers up the length of her arm, watching her reaction with a grin. Her eyes fluttered but didn't open, as if she was still caught in the throes of a dream.

Sliding down the line of her body, he bent his lips over her hip, pushing the sheets back so he could kiss the skin there. One hand slid down to grope her bottom, his teeth scraping gently and reddening the snowy flesh. His mouth traced upward, tongue dragging up the curve of her waist. When he bit down, he felt her body shudder and was sure that that had done it. He pressed his face into the wet skin, his groping hand slipping under her to clutch her to him.

"Alex."

The voice was small, reminding Alex of how sweet and delicate she really was. He smiled giddily into her waist, finally picking his head up to meet her sleep-fuddled eyes. She rubbed one eye, trying to stretch without disrupting her comfortable position.

"Good morning beautiful." The Ghost dragged himself back up to meet her mouth in a slow kiss, unable to keep himself from bearing over her, turning her onto her back; his errant fingers brushed the hair away from her eyes. When he released her, he bit his lip to keep from laughing at the silly smile on her lips.

"What a wonderful day." Amy's voice was still wispy, unready to be fully awake. It was obvious enough that she wasn't referring to the weather, which made Alex grin wider.

"You're telling me." His answer was short, voice husky from disuse (though he suspected that the copious amount of groans and cries from the night prior may have also been a factor). He sniffed, smiling goofily again and plopping his cheek down on one breast, turning his nose into the crevice of her bosom, whuffling. He decided against moving his head, thinking that he may have found his new favorite vacation spot. He couldn't recall being so relaxed in a long time, a feeling that only increased when he felt Amy's nimble fingers thread into his unruly mop of hair, stroking his scalp.

"Mff, you're gonna put me back to sleep babe."

"I wouldn't mind."

Something about the tone of her voice made Cunningham give pause, and glance up at her face, though he refused to move his head. She didn't seem upset, but rather pensive as she gazed out his wall-length windows. From their place in bed, they had a narrow view of the cityscape, but appropriately enough, the glass offered a perfect view of the track area and the stadium in the distance.

"What's on your mind?" As if to pull her attention back to him, he pinched her side, which screwed up her concentration with a tickled smile.

"Don't look so worried." Her voice was soft, and the look in her eyes was fond as she regarded him down the line of her collarbone.

Feeling under curious scrutiny, the Ghost quickly hid his face in her breast, not willing to sport an obvious blush. In this particular situation, even he felt a little vulnerable. He didn't wait long for her to continue.

"It's just that… well last night was…" Alex could picture the look on her face as she tried to negotiate between what she was thinking and what she was comfortable enough to voice. It convinced him to look at her again, and he was rewarded with the funny expression of her cheeks puffed up and eyes squinted as she attempted to convey her thoughts without words.

"I concur wholeheartedly." He smirked, resisting the urge to brush off his shoulder. "You've got a set of pipes girl."

"And if you ever say anything in front of anyone else, I swear I will kick you!" She looked alarmed momentarily, though it was obvious that her eyes were full of mirth. The Midfielder sobered, reclaiming her previous train of thought. "But it's a new day. I just can't help but be disappointed; it's almost like we're going back to reality. Once we walk out the front door…"

"Nobody can make us leave you know. No one but your team knows you're here, and it's not like they can force you to go home… that is, if you don't want to." Alex propped himself up on one elbow, tracing designs on her flat stomach. "We can stay here all day and order in. I promise I can be very entertaining." His Cheshire smile returned; he leaned over her again, nudging his nose beneath her chin to set his teeth on her neck.

"You're very convincing." Her fingers were in his hair again, which tore an unbidden, soft groan from him. "I just feel bad for my team. I know they're worried. And Luca… we don't usually go this long without each other." At the mention of her best friend, Amy's voice faltered, a hitch in an otherwise perfect day.

"Well… what if they brought Luca here? I wouldn't mind and they could take the few minutes to see that you're okay."

Amy cocked one brow at him, smiling. "Only a few minutes huh?"

Alex snorted, shrugging. "I'm an opportunist, and I'm not going to let them take my day away from me." To emphasize his point, he dropped his full weight on her, wrapping his arms around her torso tightly, shaking her a bit like a dog would a piece of steak in his jaws.

"I think I can make that compromise sir." Amy giggled, hugging his shoulders back emphatically, trying to shake him in return.

"Excellent madam." With an excited shout, he pulled her up into a sitting position, tearing a shriek from her. Somehow managing to slide them to the edge of the bed, he laughed heartily and threw her over his shoulder, slinging one arm around her butt.

"Oh my gosh, Alex don't drop me!" She squeaked in mild terror, trying to grab anything that would stabilize her, but the only thing she could think to do was swat his conveniently-close bottom.

"Now now girly, don't start something you can't finish!" In retaliation, the merry Forward swatted her back. He stood beside the bed, shaking her a little to pull another frightened yelp from his girlfriend. Once he was satisfied with her mock terror, he made way for the bathroom, fully intent on starting his morning off right.

* * *

Amy stood in the hall outside the Forward's apartment, watching the elevator. Her team consisting of Takeshi, Liz, Himawari, and Ms. Satomi, plus one River, had called up minutes ago to buzz them in. They'd sounded urgent, like they were trying to avoid being caught by someone. It made sense; the likelihood that there were paparazzi lurking around the apartment building was high.

Alex had stayed inside, opting to make sure that his apartment was presentable enough. He'd also offered to order them all lunch, as a courtesy to Team Satomi for coming to see Amy. Knowing full well that he couldn't get away with his desired few-minute visit, it made sense to make the most of this little powwow. After all, he'd reasoned, the better terms he was on with her teammates, the easier it would be on Amy. When he considered Amy really meeting his team however, he cringed; Amy may have blossomed, but she probably wasn't ready for the rowdy joviality of Jan and Dew, or the gruff seriousness of his coach. Sir Hamgra had made it equally clear that he didn't have an interest in the girl outside of what kind of threat she was in the IGPX tournament.

Back in the hallway, the slight pilot leaned against the apartment's door frame, growing anxious. She couldn't help but wonder what her team was thinking, both about what had happened to her and her night's stay with Cunningham. She didn't have long to think though as the chime of the elevator sounded from down the hall. The smooth slide of the doors on their track indicated their arrival, but before she saw anyone step foot into the hall, she heard an anxious mewl. No sooner than the meow had reached her ears, Luca seemed to jump from four feet up from in elevator and bounded toward her. With a happy call of "Luca!", Amy dropped to her knees and caught her cat, hugging him close to her chest.

"Luca! I'm so happy you came." The tiny pilot stroked Luca's back, giggling as he butted his small nose into her cheek. He mewled again, and Amy understood him, looking her friend in the eye. "Yes, I'm okay now. Alex took care of me." She nodded and smiled. Luca seemed to process her statement and then turned his head toward the slightly ajar front door. Squirming, Luca wriggled down from Amy's arms and slipped into the apartment, making Amy blink with curiosity.

The calico poked his head in the door first, surveying the immediate area before easing himself into the apartment. It was yet dim, the only light coming from the wall of windows on the opposite end of the room. Padding silently, the cat let scent direct him to the other male in the room. Cunningham was oblivious to his presence, which made him scoff inwardly. Shouldn't this self-proclaimed champion be able to sense any presence, especially when it was in his own home? It went to show that humans, unlike cats, had an extremely bloated sense of self.

Deciding it was as good a time as any to announce his arrival, Luca mewled impatiently, walking to the edge of the tiled entrance to the kitchenette, sitting back on his haunches and waiting expectantly. The man in question was leaning on his countertop, phone to his ear. Just as the feline called for his due attention, the Velshtein Forward set the phone on the countertop and turned his head curiously in Luca's direction.

Satisfied, the Midfielder co-pilot loped forward, pausing a foot away from Cunningham.

"Well hello Luca. I take it this means the whole gang's here, huh?" Alex acknowledged the cat, voice rising as if he were speaking to a child. Just as he went to bend down and pet the feline, the cat squatted back and then launched himself onto the countertop, circling and sitting primly before the Forward.

Luca's gaze was flat, unimpressed by Cunningham's kiddy act. Why did humans always assume that animals were puerile? He lifted his chin slightly, analyzing the human before him. If he hadn't known the man was an IGPX pilot, he would have dismissed him for another unremarkable homo-sapien. Whatever Amy saw in this person, it wasn't very forthcoming.

"Luca, what's going on?"

The calico turned his head to see Amy shuffling into the kitchenette. She came right up beside the countertop, leaning on it with her elbows to bring her nose within inches of his. Knowing Amy would probably see right through his posturing, Luca bobbed his head forward and swiped his sandpaper tongue across her nose.

Amy giggled, petting his head. She gave Luca a sly, knowing look. "Sizing up the enemy hmm?"

Luca purred, hunkering down onto all fours and blinking, unwilling to give anymore up. He wasn't surprised; most people didn't give her credit for how irritatingly observant she could be. He was almost convinced that her sweetness was sometimes a strategy to fool people into giving up their secrets. After all, she'd called each of Takeshi's relationships before even he'd acknowledged them. And of course, she'd read Liz like a book when she'd gone through her rough patch in their second IG-1 season.

"Enemy? Me?" Alex's brow furrowed, looking upon the cat in a new light. "Am I that shady?"

"Oh no, Luca just doesn't think anyone's good enough for me." Amy's eyes were still narrowed, a small but mischievous smile on her lips.

Luca meowed, voicing his agreement for the stupid man who couldn't understand the simplest of body gestures.

"Wow, nice digs man!"

Alex was interrupted from Luca's insults at Takeshi's words, turning to see his other four visitors standing in a cluster in the entryway. They were looking around in muted admiration, taking in the sight of his home. For the second time that day, Cunningham fought the urge to pat his own back.

"Hey, welcome guys. Sorry it's kinda dark in here." As he spoke, the Ghost left the kitchenette to approach his guests, flipping on the light switches near the front door. He then closed the remaining distance between him and his visitors, offering his hand to Takeshi first.

"Good to see you Takeshi."

Shaking the other pilot's hand, Takeshi grinned absently. "Yeah, you too man."

"Hello Cunningham, I'm Mitsuko Satomi. We've never really formally met." Always the businesswoman, Ms. Satomi was quick to assert herself, offering her hand to Alex as well, which he took.

"Likewise, nice to meet you." He avoided Liz's gaze and instead turned to River. "How's it going man?" Instead of a handshake this time, Alex offered a more familiar greeting, clapping River's offered hand and shoulder-bumping him.

"You two know each other?" Liz asked, voice suspicious.

"Yeah we've gone out for drinks in the past. Yanno, chillin' with the other pilots. I don't have to tell you how Yamma is." River was forthcoming with the information, dodging Liz's glare.

Unable to avoid this last greeting, Cunningham swallowed and offered a stiff hand to the Satomi Defender. "Nice to have you too Liz."

"Bullshit." Though she wasn't exactly angry, Liz refused to exchange false pleasantries. "Let's be real here. I'm hoping you'll give me a better reason to like you when I leave here buddy."

"Geez Liz." Takeshi winced, acting oblivious as usual. "Let's just get along."

"We're fine, no one's fighting here!"

"Okay okay." Amy approached the small cluster, Luca in her arms. "Why don't we all sit down and get comfortable while we wait for lunch?"

"I like that idea. You can explain just what happened last night while we wait." Ms. Satomi's voice was light, but her words were very obviously a command and not a request.

"Okay…" Amy winced but smiled apologetically, knowing she at least owed it to her team to be honest.

Giving awkward lead, Alex led the band to the circle of couches and chairs near the windows, purposefully sitting on the loveseat. Ms. Satomi sat across from him while the three pilots sat to his left on the full-length couch. Amy joined him with Luca in her lap, who made no move to hide his obvious stare. Cunningham swallowed, dragging one palm over his nose and mouth, squeezing. This might be difficult.

* * *

A/N: I've noticed that the formatting in the earlier chapters has been screwed up by , so for that I apologize :


	6. Press 'Yes' for Fearless

A/N: It's actually legit crazy to me that this is finished. It is now 80 pages in its totality… I never thought I would write anything this long, because obviously I'm bad at working on chapter fics heh… All I can say is

-Thank you-

To everyone that has read this at any point since its inception. You're all wonderful, so I hope you enjoy this final installment.

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter Six: "Press 'Yes' for Fearless"

By: Icecubey (TIW)

* * *

The slowly dying light in the living room cast a shadow over everything, making Amy stand close to the glass to feel closer to the cheerful lights of the city. The day had passed too quickly and already they were at the threshold of another day. There would be no more running, no more pretending they could ignore their predicament. Tomorrow, they would rejoin society and give up the temptation of living as young, reckless recluses.

The Midfielder regarded the city thoughtfully, one arm crossed over her chest and holding the elbow of the other as she held her chin, tapping her lips. What was to be done really? They couldn't return to the way they'd been; too much had passed between them. If anyone had suggested it (and Ms. Satomi had tried to), she would have none of it. She refused to go on without Alex, and equally refused to remain shut-up in fear, no matter whose residence it was. She turned toward the loveseat where Luca, thoroughly content, dozed quietly. His eyes were closed, but every so often his tail twitched; it meant that he was dreaming, and probably of something good. Amy smiled at her dearest friend, thankful that he'd come to stay with her on her last night of peace.

Sensing the presence behind her, the Satomi pilot was prepared when she felt calloused fingers slide beneath the hem of her shirt, lifting it as they skated her cool skin. She shivered, letting out a strangled sigh at the feel of a hot mouth closing on her throat. She tilted her chin up, her head resting in the crook of her assailant's neck. She covered the roaming hands that slid sinuous over her breasts and down her hips with her own, gripping them tightly.

Alex scraped his teeth over her skin, heat spreading through every inch of his body. It was hard to resist Amy in any capacity now, especially when she was standing so unguarded and beautiful before the entire cityscape. He tugged her back against his bare chest, loathe to let her out of his grasp. He forced himself away from her throat, holding back a groan as he buried his face in her hair.

"I can see this is going to be a problem."

Alex's ears pricked at the humor in her voice. He tilted his head down and to the side so he could see part of her expression, which was smiling somewhat haughtily.

"What?" His own smirk surfaced, arms tightening around her.

"You'll never win back your title now; all I need to do is corner you before a race and you'll be too preoccupied to beat us." Amy's voice was quiet, conscious of her sleeping partner. Though soft, there was an expectant confidence in her tone.

"Going to play dirty, eh? I can play better than you in that department." Alex spoke smoothly, voice husky with the promise of impending delivery of his threat. His mouth sought her neck again, biting.

"Maybe, but I'm a very attentive person. I learn rather quickly." Perhaps it was the stress, or the new freedom she felt with him after the previous night. Whatever it was, she was surprising even herself with the sensual warning. She pulled herself from his teeth, turning on him. She set one small hand to his chest, pushing lightly.

He needed no hint; Alex pulled her by the wrist, stumbling around his coffee table backwards in his urgency. The moment he felt the couch stop his movement, he tugged her over him into his waiting lap, leaning back to look up at her. She had risen on her knees on either side of his legs, hands gripping the back of the couch as she loomed over him, eyes clear with intent.

Amy felt time stop for the briefest of moments. She took stock of their situation, noting how predatory she must have seemed; it was downright weird. She blushed, though her expression seemed fixed, her lips parted to pull in quick breaths and her eyes curved down, narrow as she took in her Ghost's needy expression. She'd seen it the night before, and realized that she'd made a disturbingly quick 180-degree turn from the naïve child-prodigy to a normal, hormonal teenager. And that realization made her narrow eyes widen a fraction and a grin curve her moist lips. This _was_ normal; why had it taken a stupid tabloid scandal to make her realize that Alex was the first person to make her feel like she was a regular girl, entitled to all the feelings a 16-year-old was bound to have.

Her nimble fingers slid into his mop of unruly hair, pulling tightly at the tufts in her hands, forcing his head to lean back and face the ceiling. He growled, but the guttural noise was silenced by the crush of their mouths. Her frantic digits clutched his head, shivering at the feel of his large hands vice-gripping her waist.

The muscles in his neck strained, as if he was using extreme effort to hold his position. And he was; his rational mind told him that there was going to be a bed this time. And of course, though it was a bit ludicrous without context, they couldn't completely unravel when Luca was sitting right near them. At least, he figured she would worry about that. In Amy's mind, Luca was nigh human, separated from them only by body and inability to use his vocal cords and articulators for human speech.

Of course the complete ecstasy of the moment could not last. Only moments after their passionate lip-lock, the Forward felt the telltale vibration of his phone closely followed by the obnoxious ring. The only thing that actually made him tear his mouth from Amy, though he couldn't take his wide, wild eyes from her, was the fact that his ring-tone was 'Night on Bald Mountain' which meant only one thing: Sir Hamgra was on the other end.

"Shit. . . Amy." Alex gasped, tearing one Velcro-hand from her waist, rubbing his face, trying to snap himself out of his euphoria.

Amy said nothing, lowering herself into his lap with all the calm she could manage. She wedged her bottom between the arm of the couch and his legs, calves draped across his thighs. She watched him with hooded eyes, lips red from their hasty kissing. She moved her legs down towards his knees to allow him to grab his phone from his pocket, trying to bring down her buzz so that she could let him focus. Though she did, it was not without extreme effort.

Alex took a deep breath, giving her a look of incredulity mixed with accusations, cursing her ability to be so calm. He rubbed his face again, coughing and answering his phone before it could hang up on his couch, voice shaking off its huskiness.

"Sir."

"_Cunningham. I thought you'd be pleased to know that I'm at the police station now to make sure the scum messing with Stapleton's mail does not get bail."_

Alex sputtered, leaning forward quickly, making Amy jump. "Wait, _what?_ They found him?"

"_Yes. The idiot thought no one would catch him intercepting the letters and getting paid for it. The tabloids are probably going to face legal action as well for letting it happen without report. You won't need to worry about anymore hate mail."_

Alex turned wide eyes to Amy, who was leaning forward in her own urgency, holding onto his shoulder to keep her upright. She looked between the receiver and his eyes, desperate to know what was happening.

"Sir, that's… very good news. Thank you."

"_Of course it is. The sooner people forget about this nonsense, the quicker we'll get back to training you for the IGPX."_

Leave it to Sir Hamgra to think of beginning training a mere two weeks into the summer intercession. Alex stifled a chuckle, the relief making his muscles loosen.

"I look forward to it sir. Is anything required of me?"

"_No. I wouldn't even reveal that you know, the paparazzi would just hound you more. You can tell that Stapleton girl that we've taken care of the criminals; I'm sure it'll put the child out of her misery."_

Alex winced at his coach's words, biting back his immediate reaction to correct Sir Hamgra. Of course that wouldn't get him anywhere, so he gritted his teeth.

"_I have nothing more to tell you. I expect this to come to an end soon, so you should act accordingly. Report back to me if necessary."_

"Yessir. Good night, sir." Alex breathed out a pent-up sigh as he shut his cell phone. It didn't take Amy long to pull his attention back onto her, eyes pleading.

"Tell me what's happened! Who was found?"

Alex puffed up his cheeks, a quivering hand pulling a tuft of his hair, tugging on his scalp. He didn't look at Amy, widened eyes staring blankly ahead of him, trying to order the information in a sensible way that wouldn't come out as an excited jumble of words.

"Alex!"

"They got the guy. The guy – the one who's been giving all the tabloids those goddamn letters about you. Sir Hamgra is at the police station and raising hell so that the asshole doesn't get off easily. We got 'im." Alex finally grinned at Amy, watching the light that entered her eyes as she tried to sit up in her enthusiasm.

"Really? Oh thank you, thank goodness." Almost as soon as she'd straightened up, she slouched again, pressing her face into her hands as she felt tears prick her eyes. So much relief, in such a short instant, was overloading her senses, swarming her blue eyes with moisture.

A victory, amidst so much tribulation and hopelessness, an end to at least some of the harassment, and a solid sign to the world that what had been happening wasn't right, and was not going unpunished. Amy smiled tremulously as her tears striped her cheeks, and pressed her face into Alex's shoulder at the feel of his protective arms encasing her, rejoicing and supporting quietly. There was a brief moment where the solace of his solid form pulled away from her and she looked up with almost petulant confusion, but then Luca was filling her vision, pressing his nose against hers, mewling, making sure that he was not being left out of this small celebration.

Amy giggled, twitching as the normally-refined Luca licked her salty tears, his sandpaper tongue leaving warm spots on her skin. Alex chuckled, seeing Luca's veiled attempt to be Amy's strongest supporter; after all, Luca was a jealous animal and would not rest without giving the Ghost ample reminder that he was not the only man in Amy's life. With the feline clutched in Amy's arms, flush to her chest, Alex swathed them both in his embrace, laughing with Amy and sharing a brief embattled glance with the animal in her clutches.

The diminutive Midfielder sniffled, clearing her throat, but her voice was still thick with happy tears and emotion. "Tomorrow, I'll wake up knowing something good has happened. I don't feel like the whole world is working against me anymore, at least a little bit. I'm so glad." Once more leaning her head against his squared shoulder, she squeezed her eyes shut, reveling in her jubilation.

Cunningham drank in the sight of his girlfriend so purely happy after so much time of her hooded expressions and closed-off aura; rather than appearing the victim, Amy seemed to be her old, hopeful self again. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, letting out a deep breath as he squeezed Amy and Luca to his chest; it felt like he'd been holding his breath for days. There was freshness in his next inhale, and inspiration in the gaze that returned to Amy.

Leaning his head down towards hers, he pressed his forehead to her temple, whispering with confidence and vigor into her ear. In her lap, Luca watched as Cunningham's words ran the gamut of emotions across Amy's face: it started as excitement, then morphed into caution, then trepidation, the briefest twinge of doubt, but then slowly escalated back to solid and firmly-seated joy and contentment. She nodded slowly, processing each of these emotions that were maybe just now only passing through her mind. She squeezed Luca once, helpless to bottle her bliss, and turned her face into Alex's. Over Luca's head, they kissed sweetly, cemented in their resolve and absolute trust in each other.

Tonight ended the running and hiding from the world's prying eyes. Tomorrow marked a new road, a new approach to their hopelessly muddled situation, the one that their loved ones had warned them so strongly against, and not a person in IGPX City was going to stop to them.

* * *

Ms. Satomi lifted the steaming mug to her lips, foot twitching anxiously as she watched the television screen. It was late in the morning, but never too late to enjoy a cup of coffee. Under regular circumstances, she would've already gone out for the day, but on this particular weekday, she'd felt it pertinent to stay home.

The evening prior, after leaving Cunningham's apartment, she had ridden back to the team's headquarters with her other two pilots and River as twilight approached. It had been impossible not to speak about the topic at hand, wondering if there was anything they could do to help their teammate. They all felt guilty, relatively unburdened by this "scandal" as Amy and Cunningham absorbed the brunt of a bored public's prying eyes and misplaced judgments.

Off handedly, River had commented that what they really needed was a person of repute on their side, to turn all the gossip in their friends' favor. After all, all of them had ended up in the racing-obsessed town's gossip columns at least once. The only thing that set those incidences and this one apart was the distinctly negative angle the press had taken.

River's comment had set Mitsuko to thinking about who could aide their plight. Ironically, she'd realized that if anyone could help to turn the tide in their favor, it would be the man who'd unwittingly started it all.

Which was why she found herself tuning into the IGPX Network's version of a soap opera, the daily program "Track Gab". Whilst other networks used this timeslot to air several womens' guilty pleasure programs, the IGPX Network used it to offer an entire two hour block of gossip and speculation about everyone connected to the IGPX in the off season. After making a call to Benjamin the prior evening, he had assured her that he would try to help in whatever way he could conjure. An email in her inbox this morning had advised her to tune into today's "Track Gab".

She perked as the commercial break ended and the show's title card flashed across the television. She unmuted the sound and set her mug down.

"_Well ladies and gents, we have a very special treat today! Our beloved IGPX newscaster Benjamin Bright is here today to talk everything IGPX as our offseason gets into its third week. Let's give him a warm welcome_!"

As the audience applauded, the always-effervescent and singular Benjamin Bright walked onto the set, waving and smiling to the live-audience and cameras. He gave the perfunctory handshakes and hugs to the hosts and then sat in the high set chair to their left.

Mitsuko chuckled as he made a show of climbing into the chair with his relatively short stature.

"_Benjamin it's fantastic to have you" _ The host paused as he responded, his wit drawing a laugh from the audience. "_I know that the off-season must be a little boring for you seeing as you get to enjoy the action of the IG-1 up close!"_

Benjamin shrugged, nodding noncommittally. "_Yes well that's true. But I must say that for being the off-season, there is a little too much excitement brewing lately!"_

"_Oh?"_ The hosts leaned in with interest as the audience began to murmur, quietly after a moment. Mitsuko leaned in too, knowing where Benjamin must be going with his segue. After all, it was his entire reason for his manager arranging for him to appear on "Track Gab" that morning.

"_Well of course. Now I'm usually more than willing to discuss team gossip as much as the next person, but knowing all of those kids as I do, I hate to see any of them vilified or given poor reception."_

"_You're of course referring to the recent scandal involving Amy Stapleton and Alex Cunningham?"_

The audience grew so quiet that Mitsuko swore she could hear the faucet in her kitchen dripping.

"_Now there's the first problem with this whole debacle. When did it become a scandal for two young people to go out on a date?"_

Although the hosts were clearly prepared for this discussion, neither of them seemed to know how to respond. One host rose to the prompt as the other turned her gaze to her cohort.

"_Now this isn't my personal opinion, but the pictures that turned up in tabloids a little over two weeks ago have made some fans wonder about Alex Cunningham's intentions. There is after all an eight year age gap between the two."_

Mitsuko cringed, sick of hearing the awful accusation she'd been fielding for two weeks. Over and over again, naysayers and misguided supporters of Team Satomi had been voicing their distrust of the older pilot's conduct. It seemed to her that they were trying to make Cunningham out to be some sort of rapist, when he'd never done anything to suggest that his intentions were impure.

"_Now really! I want you to hear me on this particular "theory"." _Mitsuko leaned in as Benjamin began to speak again. "_I have had the pleasure of knowing both Alex Cunningham and Amy Stapleton since they entered the sport. I can say without hesitation that whilst the IGPX is filled to the brim with wonderful people, these two in particular really occupy the top 10% in my book. The both of them are incredibly genuine, talented and kind people. Alex was a bit of a ragamuffin when I met him," _He had to pause as the audience laughed. "_But he's really cleaned up – haircut not withstanding – in the years since he entered the IG-2. And Amy is truly an angel. I have never met a sweeter girl in all the years I've had the esteemed honor of presiding over the IGPX tournaments and been involved in the sport. She is wise beyond her years, let me tell you. I have a hard time remembering that she's still a teenager more often than not. And you know, Alex is really just a big kid at heart. So if you ask me, the two were made for each other."_

There was a buzz in the audience as the hosts smiled and nodded in accord with his words. Mitsuko felt her cheeks warm as a smile split her lips.

"_It's really saddened me to see what the public has put those kids through these past two weeks. Believe me, I understand being bored without the sport, but what's happened in the wake of that unfortunate tabloid article is really just ludicrous!" _Benjamin waved his hands animatedly, and the hosts were too enthralled by his "expert opinion" to interject with the usual talk show banter. "_Knowing both of these kids the way I do, I can tell you without a doubt that neither of them are happy with what certain fans have been doing in their names. A healthy fan base may be a sign of success, but some of the things being carried out in their "honor" are just downright despicable. I know that this morning Sir Hamgra has had the distinct pleasure of seeing the person tampering with Amy's mail put behind bars. I'd be truly surprised if he stopped there with persecuting the people who have been harassing his pilot and Amy to be completely honest with you."_

Mitsuko smiled as Benjamin dropped the planted information smoothly. She had called him the night before to beseech him to speak up for both Amy and Alex and try to redirect the public's energy concerning their relationship. She'd suggested that it couldn't hurt to put a little fear into the fans as well, if it would change their minds at all.

This seemed to be news for most of the studio audience, and the hosts backtracked to explain the latest arrest and development in the tabloid fiasco. Once they had finally quieted, they redirected their questioning and attention to Benjamin.

The lively sports newscaster fixed his bowtie, crossing his legs. "_Now I don't have to remind anyone here about some of the simply awful things that have happened. What I'd really like to see is the fans turning a new leaf and maybe feeling happy for them! Neither of them have really had any romantic press since they've come on the scene, although maybe in Amy's case that's a good thing!" _He chuckled, and then cleared his throat. "_Really though, I can't see any reason for the particularly strong reaction to their dating. They're just two great kids, and I think it's a wonderful match."_

Mitsuko almost jumped up and cheered as some of the audience started to clap and then slowly drew the entire audience into a round of applause for Benjamin's words. Benjamin too started to clap with them, encouraging the positive reaction.

As the hosts segued into asking Benjamin about other IGPX gossip before his time ended, Mitsuko muted the TV again. She sprung to her feet, feeling giddy and energized by the successfully _positive_ press Benjamin had just splashed across the airwaves. If this new morsel spread as quickly as every other development in the "scandal", maybe it would be no time at all before everyone realized that two pilots dating was really not all that noteworthy.

Picking up her coffee cup, Mitsuko left her sitting room, resolving that _now_, she could begin her day.

* * *

Outside of the rather boring apartment building, one very hungry cameraman perked up as his associate approached him from down block. He lowered his camera to the floor of the van, sitting in the open space created by the open side door. "It took you long enough, I'm starving!"

His coworker waved him off, handing him the fast food bag. "The place had on "Track Gab" and Benjamin Bright was talking about Cunningham and Stapleton. He was defendin' 'em and saying all this nice stuff. The rag is definitely gonna want pictures of them now so they can print up stuff about the talkshow."

"Yeah as if." The man snorted as he started to unwrap his cheeseburger. "If they ever stop playing hide and seek. They're pretty boring celebrities if you ask me."

"Holy – pick up your camera!"

The man's head whipped up to the entrance of the building as two figures emerged, and he was almost agog. They had had no idea that Amy Stapleton had been in the apartment building with Cunningham.

Amy's step hesitated as the photographers waited for them, just as they had predicted. Alex felt her trepidation as her grip on his hand kept him from walking ahead too quickly. He looked back at her, knowing that they were still at a safe-enough distance that the cameras wouldn't be able to pick up their expressions.

"We can do it babe."

There was a plaintive mewl behind them and Amy turned back to see Luca's bright, expressive face peering up at her. She looked between her two boys and found her footing again. She smiled at Alex and pressed to his side, nodding.

"We can! Together."

Alex grinned as he pulled his hand from hers and draped it across her shoulder. If they were going to "come out" to the public, they would look confident and good doing it. It wasn't a secret anymore, after all. Amy, spurred by his assurance, lifted her other hand to clasp his fingers holding her shoulder, walking with her usual poise and a newfound spring in her step.

As they advanced down the walk, the two photographers present crossed into the street with cameras up and the clicking of shutters filtered to their ears. One of them lowered his camera to let it hang by its strap around his neck and palmed a tiny notepad from his back pocket. As they turned onto the sidewalk from the front of the building, they heard one of them call to them from the street.

"Hey you two, finally showing your faces. Where ya going?"

Amy wrinkled her nose at the rather crass photographer, hearing the shutter click again as they moved to keep up with the three pilots. Amy glanced up at Alex whose face had taken on a somewhat arrogant sneer. Clearly he didn't have a high opinion of the men either. Still, she saw him turn his head to face the street.

"To eat lunch like normal people!"

Amy couldn't help but giggle and she heard even Luca yowl in his version of a laugh.

She didn't know how long it would be like this. There was really no way to predict how long people would care about their every move – if Cunningham liked her for her school girl looks, if she liked the "danger" of dating the enemy – if they were doing it for publicity, or if they genuinely liked each other.

Of course what she had discovered in the last few days – when she'd reached the end of her rope, and someone, _finally_, had been there just for her – was that she didn't much care what anybody else thought. Though it might be some time before the press would stop stinging quite as much, she found that she could keep her head up, with Luca, and the team, and Alex at her back. They could say – and print – whatever they wanted.

She lifted her eyes to her Ghost's face, examining his smug profile, and after a moment, he turned to meet her gaze.

"What?"

Amy shrugged, smiling serenely, her dangling arm bending so that her fingers could crawl along his lower back and rest around his hip.

"Nothing. I'm just happy."

Alex smiled, his boyish face lighting as his eyes crinkled and his mouth cocked on one side. "Me too."

Then Amy slowed and pulled on his hand, tugging his upper body down. Alex was afforded one moment of pleasant surprise before he abandoned any lingering concerns and lowered his head to catch her upturned mouth with his. Against her lips, he muttered, "How do you think they'll caption this one?"

"Hush up and kiss me properly."

"Yes ma'am." And he did.

This would be one for the tabloids.

* * *

A/N: It's been a treat. Take care everyone :)


End file.
